Start Again
by Nadin4400
Summary: AU post 2x21. Newly turned Jenna is trying to adjust to her new life, but nothing is ever smooth in Mystic Falls, especially when the "baddest" of the vampires has plans for you. Vampire!Jenna/Alaric, most of other characters involved. Ch 13 UP! Please check out, read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Start Again

**Summary**: Jenna survives the ritual, and has to learn to live as a vampire. Unfortunately, it is not that easy with Klaus being after her.

**Characters**: Alaric, Jenna, Damon, Elena, Stefan, Caroline, Jeremy, Bonnie, and maybe mentions and appearances of the others later on

**Spoilers**: up to 2x21 _The Sun Also Rises_

**Timeline**: AU after 2x21 _The Sun Also Rises_

**Rated: **T in general, M for future adult content

**Disclaimer**: UNFORTUNATELY I have nothing to do with the show and don't own any of the characters, otherwise that episode would have had an entirely different ending :'(

**Author's Note**: It wasn't easy to start this one, and I swear to god, I had never had such a severe internal battle in my life before because writing about vampire!Jenna basically goes against everything I loved about TVD (before they made the biggest mistake possible). For a very long time I thought her and Alaric were the only couple that had a chance for an actual human happy ending with growing old together and other cheesy stuff like that. Speak of wishful thinking, huh?

Yet, consider it a tribute to what an awesome vamp she would have become had she been given a chance. And blame plot bunnies. I simply couldn't get the idea out of my head.

Also, since it's AU, Damon doesn't have a werewolf bite because I do not intend to develop that side of the story.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_~And I remember everything,__ everything I loved,_

_I gave it away like it wasn't enough._

_All the words I said and all you forgive,_

_How could I hurt you again?_

"_Start Again" by Red~_

Alaric took a small sip of his drink and let it burn its way down his throat and settle heavily in his stomach without feeling the taste of it. He was sitting by the fireplace in the library of the Salvatore boarding house, watching the dance of flames and not really seeing anything, his whole body pretty numb and his mind blank, a glass cradled in his hand.

**[flashback]**

He let out a long weary sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face, and then rumpled his hair absently. His eyes were sandy from lack of sleep – because really, when was the last time he had any? Thirty hours ago? Thirty five? – and his entire body was sore and stiff. Carefully, he rolled his shoulders, flinching, in a pretty vain attempt to get rid of some tension. Pinched the bridge of his nose and then leaned forward resting his forearms on his thighs, fingers linked, as he peered down at her.

Somehow, they ended up in the study of the Salvatore boarding house – how and why were rather blurred for Alaric – with Jenna lying on the couch, covered with checked plaid, and him sitting beside her in what could easily win The Most Uncomfortable Chair In The World award, twice. She was sound asleep, or unconscious – that he didn't know for sure since she remained like ever since Damon and Stefan brought her and Elena back from the woods after the ritual. Bonnie supposed that it was how her body was healing itself after she'd nearly died during the sacrifice, but she sounded pretty uncertain, too.

She'd nearly died, Alaric repeated in his mind. The whole concept was too horrible to even try and wrap his mind around it so he decided not to bother. The important part was that she was alive now.

The fire was crackling in the fireplace and the room was filled with the scents of wood, old books and wax candles sitting in the antique holders on the shelves and tables all around, more for decoration than anything. It was warm but Alaric couldn't stop shivering, fear and exhaustion making his body respond to stress that way. Vaguely, he recalled Damon offering to move Jenna upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms, which he waved off without so much as a look over his shoulder. And when someone suggested that he should probably try to have some rest, Alaric simply ignored them. He was not going to let her out of his sight again, not until he was certain she was fine.

Jenna's chest was rising and falling evenly as she breathed. It was just a reflex now, an illusion of normality which was somewhat comforting and yet rather eerie at the same time. Vampires didn't need to breathe. He knew that some of them kept doing it out of habit, or to stay more inconspicuous, or because it was one of a very few human things they could cling to. Yes, he knew all of that, but applying it to Jenna was something else entirely, what with everything inside of him screaming about the wrongness of the whole situation.

She was a vampire, Alaric thought for the umpteenth time. A _vampire_. As if repeating it over and over again could bring more sense to it. Unfortunately, it was working the other way around – the deeper it was sinking, the less believable it was getting.

How? How on earth could it have happened? No, scratch that. How on earth could he let it happen? He was supposed to protect her, to keep her safe, to take care of her. To keep her away from all of that, for heaven's sake! She wasn't supposed to be involved, period! Not to that extent. Or, at least, these were his best-laid plans, as in – before everything went totally and utterly out of control. Before he knew it was too late.

Jenna was a vampire.

Alaric rubbed his eyelids, exhausted. It was his fault. It happened on his watch, and no half-assed excuses could ever make it better. It was his fault, and he'd have to live with it. And the worst part was that she'd have to live with it, too. He ruined her life by not trying hard enough. Bloody hell, he should have left her alone for one goddamned second, what with all that insanity happening around them! What was he thinking, again? If only he could turn back the time and undo everything, make it right, keep her… keep her human.

What the hell was wrong with him not being able to protect the woman he loved? How could he screw up the only thing that mattered the most? How could he fail her like that?

Absently, he reached out to touch her hair and stroke his hand down her cheek, feeling the smoothness and softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. _I'm sorry_. His heart constricted and his throat closed, making it hard to breathe.

"It's going to be fine now," he whispered. "Everything's going to be alright now. I promise, Jenna, everything is going to be alright."

_If only because what had happened is __already more than enough for a lifetime, or few_, an evil voice singsonged in his head, and Alaric cringed inwardly. It was that kind of truth that fucking hurt! It was like a knife turning in his heart and cutting deeper with each move. And the pain brought twisted satisfaction, as he knew it was deserved.

He had no right to get involved with her in the first place, Alaric thought desperately. Not with his past. Not with his damned crusade. Not with him knowing how easy it was to lose someone he loved to the dark side, how it could destroy one's life forever. But he fell for her. He fell for her the moment he saw her at the Grill after school on his first day at Mystic Falls High. And selfishly, he assumed that it was worth the risk. And then, unsurprisingly, he fell harder, and turning back and walking away became simply impossible.

Alaric proper his elbows on his thighs and leaned his forehead against tight knot of his clasped hands, feeling endlessly tired as if the weight of the entire world was lying on his shoulders like a burden. It had been a while already, maybe even a few hours. Not that it mattered. He had no idea what time was it, or even what part of the day, and turning his head to check the antique clock on the mantelpiece was too much of an effort.

Finally, Jenna stirred and sighed, the softest of sounds making him all but jump out of his skin. Instantly, he was out of his chair and crouching by the couch as he watched her eyes flutter open slowly.

"Ric," she breathed out when her gaze focused on his face, basically turning him into a puddle of goo, what with all the tension that was beyond unbearable at this point.

"Hey," he whispered back on a small relieved smile that crossed his face against his will. Again, he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, the back of his fingers caressing her cheek.

Jenna's lips started to form into a return smile, her gaze wandering around his face, and then, apparently, everything kicked in and the memories came rushing back, if her face turning from mellow to shocked, to horrified in a matter of seconds was any indication.

Her eyes grew big and panicked, and she all but leaped up on, "Elena…"

"Easy." Alaric's hands were on her shoulders the very same moment as he held her firmly on the couch. "She's okay, Jenna. She's okay."

It did little to sooth her down though as she kept gasping for air, as if suffocating. "But…. Elena. Klaus… the sacrifice," she mumbled, her eyes darting frantically around the room as though she couldn't understand what they were doing there.

"Jenna," his voice seemed to snap her back to reality as Alaric cupped her cheek with his palm. "Jenna, look at me." He caught her gaze and held it. "She's fine. Elena is fine. We're at the Salvatore house, she is safe."

"And Jeremy—"

"—is alright," he finished. "Everyone is fine. I swear, _everyone_ is okay."

For a long moment she just looked at him, waiting for the words to register properly, until another realization downed on her. He could see it in her eyes.

"And me?" She asked in a small voice, as if dreading to hear the answer, which Alaric guessed was exactly how she felt. He also knew that there was no need for him to say a word for her to know the truth. Last time he checked, his poker face was the lamest poker face in the world.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

For what? For the very fact of her turning? For not being able to stop it, to protect her? For disbelief and fear that crossed her face and settled deep inside of her as something cold and sickening? For all of the above? He didn't know, and knew she didn't either. And seeing that her entire word was falling apart broke his heart all over again.

"Yeah, right." Jenna smiled ruefully as she leaned against the cushions and pulled her legs up, her shoulders sagged and her write-knuckled grip unclenched, releasing the plaid she'd been holding onto. Alaric's heart fell at the feeling of defeat that seemed to be radiating from her in thick waves now. "Not what I asked for Christmas, you know, but I guess you barely ever get what you ask for, right?" She ran her hand through her hair to push it out of her face and dropped her gaze.

On a sigh, Alaric took her hand and laced their fingers as he watched her tentatively. "Jen—"

She heaved a sigh and flexed her fingers around his, squeezing his hand back. Her features softened at the sight of his turmoil. "It's not like I can do anything about it, I guess," Jenna let out in a whoosh of breath and tugged at his hand, which was just as much of an invitation that he needed, and the next thing that Alaric knew was that he was squeezed between the arm-rest and her on the couch, his arms wrapped around her and holding her close. And for the first time in what seemed like forever the cold hand of fear started to finally letting go.

"How did it happen?" Jenna asked quietly. "How did—? I mean, wasn't he supposed to kill me? I—I don't understand."

"Bonnie," he replied simply.

Thing was neither of them knew what _exactly_ had happened. From what he was told, Jenna was dead when they arrived. And then she… wasn't. Maybe it was because of all the magic flying in the air. Maybe it was someone else. And a part of him was really bothered by it, just like it would be by any other thing that he couldn't explain. But he deiced to put solving this puzzle away for a little while, at least until everything settled and all of them could take a proper breath. Not that it mattered, he thought rather selfishly, and felt a pang of guilt shoot through him but pushed it away almost effortlessly. To be honest, he was too tired to care right now. Bonnie, or Easter Bunny, or a bunch of Santa's elves – he wasn't giving a damn. She was fine. She was here, and he didn't want to think about anything else. Not now and maybe not ever.

One thing at a time, he told himself. One thing at a time.

"Is she okay?"

Alaric nodded if a little distractedly, his lips brushing against her hair. "Yes. Yes, she is."

**[flashback] **

Jenna paused in the opening that led to the library, hesitant and not sure if interrupting his privacy was a good idea. It wasn't hard to find Alaric in the silent sleeping house, not when she could sync with his heartbeat as easily as if it was her own, which was still pretty unnerving but definitely not… bad. The line of his shoulders was relaxed for a change and although she couldn't see his face, the whole stillness and deep even breaths made it pretty clear that his mind was anywhere but in this room.

It had been a few days already. A few days of efforts and adjustments, of learning how to live as her new self, which was pretty confusing for the most part. Everything seemed to be bigger, brighter, more prominent. Her senses sharpened and intensified to a level she could never have imagined. It was like looking at the world through the magnifying glass all of a sudden. Sounds she'd never heard, details she'd never noticed – they were all overwhelming now. All the feelings and emotions were coming in tidal waves now, sweeping her off of her feet every now and then before she knew how to react. In the grand scheme of things, _weird_ wasn't quite covering it.

It was also rather terrifying at this point, the unexpectedness of it. If anything, it was definitely something she'd need some time getting used to.

The first shock was still there. The memories of the of the fire being everywhere around her, so hot that she'd thought she'd melt like a wax figure, were as sharp and clear as on the night she got turned. She remembered not being able to tear her gaze away from the dancing flames, as if hypnotized. She remembered fear, so strong and consuming that it paralyzed her and rooted her to the spot. Fear for Elena who was trapped in the similar ring of fire, so close and yet so far away. Fear for herself. And all of that – this panic, and horror, and animal instincts that she'd never know before – was so intense she'd thought she'd go crazy.

And then it was over – the details fueled with shock getting slightly unfocused, like a dream. And once it was, there was a moment when her insides twisted with an almost physical pain as the realization that it wasn't some sort of the worst nightmare of her life had finally struck. It was, in fact, the worst nightmare of her reality – the one she had zero chances to wake up from. It felt pretty much like the entire world swayed beneath her feet and turned upside down, again – yeah, as if one time wasn't enough. And basically, it left Jenna with two possibilities – to go and stake herself, or to try and cope one way or the other.

Well, it wasn't _that_ bad in the end. Not as bad as she'd expected at least – if, by any chance, she'd ever try to imagine herself being a vampire, what with the idea being too insane to even occur to her before it had actually happened. Different, yes. A lot more different than she'd consider comfortable. And Jenna had a pleasure of appreciating a whole new level of the mood swing and rollercoaster of emotions. But it was manageable, in general, or at least she hoped so. She still had Jeremy and Elena to take care of, and while everyone was alive and safe dealing with her now natural violence issues wasn't entirely impossible.

With all the commotion though, she had barely seen Alaric lately. He was busy. She was busy. The whole house seemed to never be empty, and Jenna started to suspect that the entire town had been hanging out there regularly, from Sheriff Forbes and Carol Lockwood – the fact that was just beyond her – to half of the Mystic Falls High, the fanged and furry part mostly. The place was buzzing 24/7. And maybe it was just her, or maybe this over-grown paranoia was one of her awesome newly acquired qualities, but on a personal level it was easier to write it off to the overall craziness than actually accept the fact that he was avoiding her.

No, he wasn't obvious about it, of course. But she wasn't exactly blind either, and it was hard to miss that he wasn't around that much, or that they'd never been alone. Was it a matter of chance or a deliberate move, she couldn't say. It was like he was always trying to put a buffer between them for the reasons Jenna couldn't see.

Except for the apparent ones, of course – that the whole situation hit a little too close to home for Alaric. That she was a freaking _vampire_, and instead of having a glass of warm milk before going to sleep she was now pouring herself some warm blood. Jenna wasn't entirely sure if it was doing any good to her sleep, to be honest, but it definitely didn't change the fact that it was a part of her healthy diet for… well, ever, and he didn't necessarily have to be okay with it, consciously or subconsciously.

She sighed subtly and shifted from foot to foot as she contemplated leaving before he'd noticed her or something. She knew it wasn't easy for him, not after Isobel. She knew he probably needed time to come in terms with it one way or the other, and of course she couldn't blame him for it. Not exactly. Thing was, she couldn't blame herself either. Last time she'd checked she was the one who'd gotten the worst end of the deal. It wasn't _her_ idea of spending the eternity after all.

And of course, much to her dismay, there was no flash sign explaining where this whole situation was putting the two of them. And obviously Alaric didn't know that either. They were basically walking on eggshells around each other, and in between it and her amplified emotions, Jenna had no idea for how long she'd be able to dance around him like that and keep her face.

They both needed time, that she couldn't deny. And personally, she had no problem with it, what with her having all the time in the world. She just… she just wasn't sure that under current circumstances it was enough.

"You know, whoever told you that sleep wasn't an option were wrong," she said lightly in a soft voice, breaking heavy silence.

It gave him a start nonetheless, and Jenna cringed inwardly a little.

Alaric turned and found her standing in the entryway, her shoulder leaned against the wall and arms folded on her chest. With the flickering fire catching the highlights in her hair and a small smile, she was… well, pretty much breathtaking.

"Jenna," he started, then faltered and cleared his throat. "I… um, I was just…"

_Hiding_, she finished in her mind.

"Trying to hypnotize the fireplace," she supposed. "I got it. Well, to be honest, I thought it was more like Bonnie's thing, but if you want to learn it, too…" She trailed off, making it clear she was teasing him. And then, "It's late."

Ric got up from the couch and put his half-full glass of scotch on a low coffee table. "Yeah, I—I guess I have lost track of time." The corners of his mouth tugged up a little, his voice apologetic.

_Liar_.

Slowly, Jenna nodded. "So I see." Apparently, the idea of clearing up the weirdness only brought even more weirdness. Did she want to back off now or did she want to keep going and make things even worse? "I was just…" _kind of stalking you not so subtly_. "I thought I'd check on fire before we burned the whole place down," she made a funny face. "Not sure anyone would appreciate it, even if it could save a fortune regularly spent on cleaning teams."

It was almost funny how she managed to push away that need for him for so long and pretend everything was fine when all she really wanted was for him to be there and comfort her. Not now though. It wasn't really working when he was standing so close and yet being so far away, she thought bitterly, what with that wall that he had built around himself, thick and high. The wall she wasn't sure she was capable of tearing down. The one he probably didn't want to be torn down.

"And," she continued with a very, very fake easiness, "since you're on the fire duty here, I should probably—"

"Jenna," he was suddenly beside her – the moment she missed entirely. What the hell was wrong with her vampire reflexes? "I'm sorry. I've been—these last days were totally crazy," Alaric breathed out.

His hands ran up and down her arms, his gaze fixed on hers, and Jenna noticed for the first time how tired and world-weary he looked. Well, anyone would be if they kept staying up night after night but there also was some desperate edge to him that made her heart sink. If only he would just talk to her… The smell of alcohol was thick in the air, especially prominent for her new senses, which only added it to the picture.

"No, don't," she whispered, feeling weirdly better by the second, because of his words or his proximity she didn't know.

The warmth of his body beside her was almost as hot and consuming as the heat of the fire, only a million times better. Like something that was a part of her. Like home.

For a moment though the smell of him and the sound of his heartbeat – so loud it was incredible – became too overwhelming, and Jenna caught her breath, panicking, and then exhaled slowly when the predator in her raised its head, demanding for blood.

She was certain that the sudden stiffness of her body didn't go past him. It was going to get better eventually, or so she was told. She'd get more in control of her reactions with time, and so on, and so forth. Knowing it wasn't helping much though. It wasn't changing the fact that she was a threat.

Alaric stiffened too, and her first instinct was to pull back as panic of another nature came – that she didn't want him to see her like that – but his hands on her shoulders didn't let go.

The first few weeks were the worst, naturally, as the feelings and needs were still too foreign to keep them at bay, or even define them properly. And that was usually when the urge to turn it all off and just follow the instincts was the most tempting, Jenna figured, and a part of her wanted to do it so bad, if only to be able to finally take a break from all this chaos. Instead, she turned away and fought to keep focused on the human part of herself and on how she did not want to do something regrettable, taking one sort breath after another until the world around her was the same again.

"I was worried about you," Jenna said in the softest of voices when the moment had passed and the aching in her jaw was gone, and all she could feel was the touch of his hands through her shirt.

"_You_ were worried about _me_?" Ric chuckled bitterly, his breath tickling her skin as his lips brushed against her forehead.

It was unbelievable.

She felt the same, Alaric noted. She smelled the same, and there was nothing about her telling him that something had changed at all. As is nothing happened. The fact that for a moment bloodlust in her overpowered everything else almost didn't register in him. to his own endless surprise, it didn't matter. She was still Jenna, _his_ Jenna, and he had never longed for anyone in his entire life the way he'd longed for her these past few days, the weight of guilt pressing on him and holding him back felt quite unbearable. She was better off without him. Problem was—

"Let's get out of here," he whispered into her hair as he kissed the top of her head. "Let's get out of town for a couple of days, just you and me. What do you think?"

Jenna smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

_~What if I let you in?_

_What if I make it right it?_

_What if I give it up?_

_What if I want to try?_

_What if you take a chance?_

_What if I learn to love?_

_What if, what if we start again?_

"_Start Again" by Red~_

* * *

><p>"Hey, what are you doing?" Elena asked walking into the library as she spotted Jenna rummaging through a cardboard box that stood on the massive redwood desk by the window.<p>

The sun was flowing in through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows casting long shadows that crossed the floor and giving everything around warm highlights.

Jenna looked up, then down into the box and then up at Elena again. "These are the Gilbert journals," she explained. "Stefan brought them back from that safe house of a hundred dead witches today. Thought I'd—I could use some light reading."

Elena's brows started to arch but then she just nodded as she approached and stopped on the other side of the table. "Family history, huh?"

"Now that I'm a part of it," Jenna singsonged.

"How are you?" The girl asked if a little tentatively.

"Fine," Jenna smiled at her. "I guess. I mean I hadn't killed anyone in their sleep yet, right? From what I've heard it's a good start." She ran her hand through her hair, and a silver day-walking ring with a Lapis Lazuli stone embedded in the middle of the band on her finger glistened in the sunlight. "Still processing, you know. All of that is a little overwhelming but… To be honest, it's a lot stranger to know that half of the town is on an O-negative diet and the other half is covering up for them than to accept the fact that I'm a vampire. Is it weird?"

Elena's lips curved. "I really don't know," she said honestly. "It had been pretty crazy at first. More than crazy. But… one day you will wake up and know that you can live with it." Paused. "I'm sorry, Jenna. I am so, so sorry about all of that."

And she did sound apologetic. And desperate.

"Last time I checked it wasn't you who snapped my neck," Jenna gave her a crooked half-smile. "Or whatever else they did. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I should have told you."

"I should have seen it. Felt it." Jenna offered her a little shrug. "I should have paid more attention to begin with. But I didn't, and it doesn't speak in favor of my lousy parental skills. I screwed it up. I guess Miranda expected me to handle it better than I did, and you have no idea how much I'd wish to go back and make it right."

"Jenna—"

"You know, when I said I didn't want this – I meant it. I didn't want to be responsible for the two of you. I wasn't ready, I was scared. I—I wasn't meant for it. Period." She let out a bitter chuckle, all the suppressed feelings and held-back emotions that boiled inside of her for quite a while finding their way out. "It was a big joke when Miranda and Grayson asked me to sign the papers 'In Case If…'. I could get their point but none of us could have ever imagined that the day would actually come, otherwise, believe me, they'd think twice, or ten times. And then…then it suddenly did. And I… Look at me, Elena. I was more of a good example of bad rather than a role model. A party girl with a reality suddenly thrown in her face. And sitting in that ring of fire back then, all I could think about was that your parents made the worst choice ever." She paused when she ran out of breath. "If anyone should be sorry for anything, it's not you."

"It's not true." Elena shook her head. "You were a friend, Jenna, and believe it or not, back then it was exactly what Jeremy and I needed the most. Not a parental authority and not the rules and restrictions someone else – _anyone_ – could bring, but a person we could confide in. Mom and dad were right after all. They knew that. You were… _are_ the best choice. I just… it shouldn't have happened to you. It shouldn't have gone this far. I should have found a way to keep you out of it."

"No, _I_ should have kept you away from it," Jenna objected. "It was _my_ job, and instead I turned into someone who can rip your heart out without blinking." And then all but growled in frustration and rubbed at her forehead before giving Elena a helpless look. "Seriously, this whole new personality is just a nightmare. I annoy myself and it sucks."

Elena let out a short laugh. "Rumor is, there is something good about it, too."

"So I've heard. Doesn't mean it's true."

"Look, I know it wasn't smooth, and we all had our moments, and I know that I had no right to keep all of that from you, Jenna, but the truth is – Klaus would have come for me in any case, it was just a matter of time. I hate saying that but there is nothing you, or anyone else, could have done about it. But it doesn't change the fact that no one would have helped us get through the death of mom and dad better than you did."

Jenna dropped her gaze for a moment, then swept the room with the long glance before turning to Elena again. "You think it's over this time? You think everything is going to be back to normal now?"

"As normal as it can be, I guess," Elena replied with more confidence than she was actually feeling. "I mean you're a vampire, and Bonnie is a witch, and Tyler is a werewolf, and me… well, don't get me started with the whole doppelganger thing. How normal can it possibly be? But… Klaus got what he wanted. He is pretty much invincible now but he has no reason to be interested in any of us anymore, so…" She trailed off. "If it can't get any worse, it can only get better, right?"

They shared a look of understanding.

"Um… there is this one thing…"

"What?"

Jenna hesitated for a moment. "Alaric…" her smile softened as she said the name. "He offered me to go to the lake house for the weekend. And I thought…" She paused, then scrunched her eyes and shook her head. "Okay, forget about it. It's a bad idea—"

"No, no!" Elena interrupted her hastily. "It's a—it's a really great idea, Jenna."

Jenna eyed her uncertainly. "I don't think I should leave you and Jeremy alone." She bit her lower lip.

"We're not alone, and we'll be fine, I swear," Elena assured her heatedly. "You guys… after everything you've been through, you deserve it like no one else. You have no idea how glad I am that you two are good." She took Jenna's hand and gave it a small squeeze and asked, eyes narrowed, "You're good, right?"

Jenna's smile grew against her will. "I want to believe so."

"Ah, nothing is sweeter than small family moments," Damon drawled walking into the library. "Oh well, how would I now, huh?" Added as an afterthought before tossing a blood-bag to Jenna. "Capri Sun? Human flavor!" He winked at her.

Jenna caught it effortlessly, still impressed by her reflexes, and then scowled at him. "How can you joke about it?"

"Still in denial?" He smirked and took a sip from his own blood bag. "Don't worry, it'll get better."

"How can being a vampire get better?" She asked dryly.

"Hey, don't be a racist towards your own kind!" And hadn't she known any better, she'd think he was genuinely offended. "You're one of us now," and he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"I feel like I am high most of time."

"And since when is it a bad thing?"

One of Jenna's brows quirked up elegantly as she turned to Elena. "Can I do something painful to him?"

Elena considered the question for a moment. "Can I help?"

And they both turned to Damon.

"Traitors," he grimaced.

"There you are." All of them turned when Alaric poked his head in. He scanned the library before fixing his eyes on Jenna. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, she is!" Elena responded quickly before Jenna even opened her mouth, and then neatly sidestepped her aunt away from the box, pulling it closer and peering inside with more or less fake interest. "I'll take care of this for you."

Meanwhile, Damon turned to Ric. "Hey, did you know that your girlfriend considers herself a total badass just because you have a stash of stakes under your bed?"

"Actually, it is because I have a stash of blood-bags under _my_ bed," Jenna cut in, making Alaric chuckle, which he attempted to mask with a cough. "But thanks for the idea." She turned to Ric then. "I have to take some stuff from upstairs."

"Okay," he nodded. "I'll meet you at the car then."

"Seriously, dude, you're so whipped it's just … eww," Damon commented as soon as she was out of the earshot.

"Shut up," Alaric shook his head.

He wanted to add something else, but then Bonnie squeezed into the room past him, followed close by Jeremy, both of them looking like the end of the world was going to down upon all of them any moment.

"Thank god you're here," she mumbled, then craned her neck as if to make sure that there was no one in the corridor.

"What is it?" Elena frowned momentarily, going all rigid on instant.

Bonnie and Jeremy exchanged frantic looks.

"What?" Damon demanded, his brows coming together and all amusement gone without a trace.

"It's Jenna," Bonnie said in a small voice, her gaze fixing on Alaric's.

Which was pretty much like a sucker punch that knocked all air out of his lungs. "What?" He mouthed soundlessly, quite unable of producing any coherent sounds.

"Klaus," she all but chocked out. "Klaus might be after her."

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><p><strong>AN:** Oh, okay. I decided to give it a try although it feels weird, if only because Jenna had always been like a symbol of humanity and innocence on this show that all of them fought to protect by fighting the evil. But the way he story had turned was just wrong… So, what do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**: oh, it's been a while. Sorry, guys, but I was on vacation :P I honestly tried to work on the fic there, and I even opened it, like, twice. #Ashamed And I know this chap is rather short, too. But I kinda had to end it where I did. Hope you won't actually hold it against me :) Aaaanyway, I'm glad to be back – in terms of writing, not in terms of having to work again lol Will do my best to be more regular with updates!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

"Damn it!" Alaric smacked his fist against the hardwood table he was leaning on, then straightened up and ran his hands angrily through his hair feeling pretty much like a caged animal, his mind reeling and his insides twisting and coiling, as if wrapped in barbwire.

Soon after dropping the bomb, Bonnie had left, followed close by distressed Jeremy and Elena, too shocked to be able to process the news just yet, leaving him and Damon alone in the study – the moment that Alaric hadn't quite registered, what with him being too preoccupied with processing the news.

"Come on," Damon drawled. "You really believe in that witchy-phone of hers?" He shook his head skeptically and took a small sip of bourbon from of his glass. "A bunch of dead witches telling her stuff? It's just too _Ghost_ to be true."

"And when was the last time she was wrong, again?" Alaric asked him dryly.

"Doesn't mean she's right now," the vampire pointed out.

"You think I'm going to take chances? No way. Not with Jenna."

"Why would Klaus be interested in her, anyway? It makes no sense."

"Why would he do everything he'd done to all of us so far, Damon?" Ric let out a long exasperated sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face. "If even _you_ don't see the reasons behind the actions of this murderous psychopath, how can I?"

"Ouch," Damon grimaced with mock offence. "Look, don't worry, we'll deal with it, okay?" He patted Alaric on the back and beamed with more easiness than Ric found comfortable. He found it pretty irritating though.

"Yeah? Like the last time when you dealt with it by keeping me locked in that damned house when Jenna nearly got killed?"

He scowled at the vampire, the panic he could never have imagined ever before, and sinking feeling in his stomach, and pounding on the invisible barrier as if really hoping to break through it too fresh in his mind yet. Would probably be fresh enough to make him wake up in cold sweat in the middle of the night for the rest of his life, Alaric thought. He could see the reason behind what they had done – well, whenever his rational part was willing to cooperate at least – but what he couldn't forgive, and maybe never would be able to, was the fact that they kept him away from Jenna the only time she needed him the most. The _only_ time he needed to be there for her.

It felt too much like a betrayal, even though he kept pushing it away as best he could, assuming it wasn't exactly the best time for holding the grudges. But it was there, in the back of his mind, a bitter reminder that someone else made that decision for him leaving him with having to live with it for the rest of his life. And, sadly, making him think he had to always be on alert so that nothing like that could happen again. As if he could no longer trust his friends and people that were supposed to matter the most completely.

"You're not going to get over it, are you?" Damon sighed, Alaric's expression not that hard to read.

"Hardly," Ric responded darkly. "She _nearly died_, Damon. She _got turned_ into a _vampire_, for heaven's sake! And now something's not right again." And god help him, but he really wanted to punch someone right now, if only for the lack of better ideas. "Why? Why her? Why wouldn't he just fucking leave her alone? Like she didn't have enough already!"

The words were harsh and sobering, and after a short moment of consideration, Damon's fake ease and _I don't give a damn about anything in the world_ light-heartedness were gone.

"She'll be fine, Ric," he said in a voice that made Alaric turn. "We'll figure it out."

"Of course we will," Alaric echoed grimly, dark determination prominent in his tone. "The only way for him to come anywhere near her again is over my dead body."

"I wouldn't say it to Klaus, you know," naturally, Damon couldn't help chuckling at that. "He might take it as a dinner invitation."

"Which he simply wouldn't be able to resist." Ric pinched the bridge of his nose. "On the moments like this I feel like it is never going to end," he breathed out, more to himself than anyone else.

"And isn't it fun?" Damon quipped, and gained a burning glare. "Go," he waved Alaric off then. "Have some fun in that lake house or whatever. And take that black cloud hanging over your head with you. We'll try to find out what is this all about, and I'll call you as soon as I have any information."

"Yeah," Alaric agreed if a little reluctantly.

The idea of leaving safe confines of the boarding house and heading off to some remote location stopped being as appealing as before by the second. It was one thing to have to deal with all that crap having a few other vampires and a witch nearby. And entirely another – to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with no backup or help whatsoever. If anything happened to them there… well, he didn't exactly want to even start thinking about it.

But then again, Bonnie could have been wrong. She could have misunderstood or misinterpreted the information she'd gotten. Alaric didn't know how exactly this whole dead witches communication worked but he was fairly certain that it wasn't one hundred percent foolproof. God only knew what reasons the spirits had in sharing the information at all, leave alone the credibility of it. Did it mean they'd have to coop up and hide in the closet for the rest of their lives, scared of something that might or might not happen? Was it even making any sense to be scared of Klaus forever? Especially assuming that forever had probably had an entirely different meaning for the centuries-old vampire.

The fact that he was, basically, invincible and impossible to kill wasn't helping the matters either, of course. But what if the information was outdated? What if what Bonnie had learned was about what had already happened? He surely _did_ have an interest in Jenna, didn't he? As in, capture her and turn her into a vampire so that she could be sacrificed in the ritual to set the werewolf part of him free. If it was true, then they were late. But then again, the time had most likely had another meaning to the spirits as they had all of it. Maybe being a couple of weeks late with the warning wasn't that big of a deal, Alaric pondered, not sure if starting to believe it was a good idea. Was it possible?

_What wasn't_, he smirked on the inside. Last time Alaric checked, _anything_ was.

And yet, there was this small voice in the back of his head that told him to keep his hopes low. Neglecting any information when Klaus was involved was at the very least reckless, and in most cases plain stupid. Besides, there was that nudging feeling inside of him that told Ric that despite everyone thinking that the worst was over, the story was far from being finished yet. Would it ever be?

He paused in the doorway and looked at Damon over the shoulder. "I will have to tell her."

Damon nodded, not looking particularly thrilled. "Try to at least chocolate-coat it first, would you?"

* * *

><p>For a moment Jenna hesitated in the doorway and then stepped into the bedroom that bore a lingering scent of Miranda's favorite perfume and something that reminded her of the childhood mixed with that special smell that wooden constructions normally had, and her chest tightened as the flow of bittersweet memories rushed into her head, sweeping her off her of feet. The place almost hadn't changed, she noted in her mind. It still had all the things, smells and sounds that she remembered from years ago.<p>

"The house belonged to Grayson's family," Jenna explained to Alaric who hovered at the door. "And later to Grayson and Miranda when his and John's parents passed away."

"It's a nice place," Alaric admitted, looking around.

"Yeah. I used to spend a lot of time here when I was young." She walked up to the vanity table and traced the redwood surface cluttered with bottles, cans and tubes with her fingertips before meeting Ric's eyes in the mirror. "Hadn't visited for quite a while, though. Ever since I left Mystic Falls, I guess." Jenna turned around and swept the room with the long glance, taking in the details from the hand-made quilt on the bed that was older than her to the reading lamps on the bedside table what matched the ornately carved headboard of the bed. "After the accident I was supposed to box it all up but I kept putting it off, clinging to the memories." A small rueful smile crossed her face. "As if Miranda and Gray could come back any time, and putting their stuff away meant that… that it was the end."

Jenna broke the eye contact with Ric, shaking off the overly sentimental vibe, not quite ready to go there just yet. Coming here triggered too many memories she had yet to sort out. She crossed the room then and entered the built-in closet. A small bulb above her head came to life when she pulled the string.

"So, this is the secret room Elena and Stefan found," she commented, not addressing anyone in particular as she paused in the opening that let to yet another compartment and let her gaze sweep the paneled walls and all sorts of anti-vampire armory covering them. Placed on long shelves, Jenna spotted boxes with wooden bullets of all sizes as well as dangerously sharp stakes – thick for general use and thin ones to load the crossbows. And speaking of…

The idea of her always being so close to the secret was almost surreal. Jenna tried to imagine her sister coming in here, looking at all of that, checking on the sharpness of the stakes – and failed. The world she used to live in her whole life and the one she was brutally pushed into just recently simply couldn't merge, like water and oil, no matter how hard Jenna fought to make it happen. She could not see her sister or brother-in-law actually using any of that stuff, or making it, for that matter. Or maybe deep inside – or even not so deep, if she were to be honest with herself – she didn't want to have her memories of normality destroyed for good.

"That's quite a collection," Alaric observed the space over her shoulder, taking in the details apprehensively, his gaze lingering on the weaponry.

Jenna grabbed a handful of wooden bullets from the box nearest to her. "Having all of that stored here…. I can't believe they'd never told me the truth," she breathed out, studying them thoughtfully. "They had made me the guardian for their kids but skipped on the fun part."

"They were probably going to, eventually," Ric told her quietly.

A part of him could perfectly understand Jenna's feeling of betrayal – that she wasn't trusted, that she wasn't good enough to know all of that. That they didn't consider the matter being big and serious enough for her to be clued in on it. And hadn't he been feeling the same when he had first found the truth? It was that kind of a sucker punch that left one gasping for air for quite a while, and no, "It was for your own good" could ever make it better, period. In fact, it was only making everything worse. Yet, he could also understand the logic that ruled the actions of Miranda Sommers-Gilbert in her attempt to keep her sister away from it.

That kind of truth was a burden, not a gift. It was a responsibility for guarding it and keeping it hidden. Once out of the box, it was going to affect one's life forever, and never in a good way. For the founding families it was a must. It was their fate from the start. For the rest of them, however, it was more like a matter of choice, and Alaric was sure that had those involved known the consequences from the start, they would prefer to keep their eyes closed and hide in a happy bliss of oblivion forever.

And wouldn't he want to keep Jenna out of it if he could? Well, he tried, Ric admitted ruefully. Not that it worked. Yet, the fact that she had to be clued in eventually wasn't changing the truth that he wouldn't want anyone to be involved with such kind of darkness, leave alone Jenna. And the fact that it didn't matter anymore wasn't quite helping.

"Maybe," Jenna called back if a little absently. "I should have probably guessed that something was not right when John was bragging about some huge family secret, and all that fuss around Gilbert legacy, and how he was so cool being in on everything, but back then I just figured that being an arrogant jerk was a part of his charming personality." And she didn't need to turn to know that Alaric's lips curved at the comment.

He touched her hand lightly then. "Look, I'll go unpack our stuff and start the fire, okay? It'll get dark and cold soon."

"Okay," she nodded. "Ric?" Called out a few second later, looking over her shoulder, but his was already gone.

Her shoulders sagged a little as her gaze lingered for a little while at the part of the corridor she could see from her spot. Jenna heard the front door open and close downstairs, and then easily captured the sound of Alaric's footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen.

He had been awfully quiet during their ride here, entirely back to the person he had been ever since that horrible night when she got turned, distanced and detached, his mind obviously somewhere else and his attempts to keep up with the small talk pretty miserable and rather incoherent for that matter. Jenna gave up eventually choosing to stare at the scenery outside her window as pushing seemed to be making just as much sense as banging her head on the wall, which left her with a sinking feeling of black dread that settled inside of her at the thought that something had irreversibly changed while she was too busy to notice it, and she was the only one left clinging to the foolish illusions…

She sighed, looked around the room once again, spotting the place where the box with the journals must have been kept, the undusted square standing out too much not to notice it, and then returned back to the bedroom.

Absently, she picked up the framed photo that stood on top of the dresser, the biggest one, and felt her lips curl of the will of their own. It was a picture of her 16-year-old self with Jeremy and Elena who were nine and seven, respectively, that Grayson took during one of the summer breaks. Jenna had ridiculous sunglasses perched on the very tip of her nose and her hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail, and all three of them were beaming into the camera for all they were worth, happy and carefree.

Her smile grew as she recalled the details of that summer, of the water-guns fights, barbecues on the back deck, bonfires and marshmallows, of laughter and thinking that life would be like that forever.

Jenna put the photo back then and let her hand run along the patchwork bedspread feeling its softness beneath her fingertips as her gaze wandered around once again. Maybe it was the right time to have it all boxed up now, she thought with bittersweet sadness. Holding on to the past and the things that were not going to be back to how they used to be now was making even less sense than ever before in her life. Who was she fooling, anyway?

It used to be her comfort zone, her escape. She missed Miranda terribly and the very thought of finally accepting the fact that her sister was not coming back caused a wave of protest raise inside of her. It was so much more natural to think that she and Grayson were out on vacation somewhere, or attending one of the conferences he used to go to every now and then, and they only asked her to look after Jeremy and Elena for a little while and were going to return back home eventually.

That was the make-believe Jenna kept holding on to when her fears of how she was going to handle the whole situation of being responsible for two lives when she was barely ever responsible for her own kept her up at night and she was lying in the dark, watching the shadows dance on the ceiling, her mind reeling and a cold hand of panic holding her tight. It was foolish. It was childish. And it was something she didn't want to let go.

With her life turned upside down, however, and her turning into her worst nightmare – literary, and a million of other things happening too fast for Jenna to even try and comprehend them properly, it wasn't working anymore. She had to finally stop looking back. In between keeping everyone she loved alive and safe, Elena's finals in a few months and the fact that Jeremy was dating an honest to god witch – which was freaking Jenna out by definition, even despite her being a vampire and the fact that she knew Bonnie her entire life – she hardly had any time to dwell on her own personal drama.

It was time to start sorting things out at last.

* * *

><p>Alaric found her outside standing at the very edge of the dock with her arms wrapped around her shoulder and staring ahead at the smooth black surface of the lake as the light breeze that picked up after the darkness fell toyed with her hair. Old boards creaked beneath his feet, although he was sure Jenna would have noticed his presence even if they weren't. Yet, she didn't turn or acknowledge his approach in any way, which left him slightly confused and antsy as he couldn't quite figure what to make of it.<p>

"You risk turning into a popsicle if you stay here any longer," Alaric said in an easy voice, pausing a few feet away from her, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, both in an attempt to do something with his hands that seemed to be out of place all of a sudden and warm up a little.

The air was cold and crispy. The smell of ozone was thick, and heavy clouds hanging over the mountains across the lake to the east from them carried the rain that he figured would fall soon. Ironically, the upcoming storm felt ominous in a way, perfectly reflecting the mood of the situation even thought he didn't really know yet why.

"Stop trying. Please." Jenna said in a hollow weary voice as she turned slowly as last, after what seemed like forever. "I want you to stop trying, Ric."

Alaric frowned, baffled, feeling like he had totally missed something at some point and was now out of the loop… Did he? "Jenna—" he started carefully, his mind working feverishly on when did something go wrong and how he managed to overlook it.

No, interruption wasn't on scenario as she would probably never have the guts to finish what should have been said and clarified from the start, so she just went on. "What are we doing here?" She looked around, taking in the house behind his back and a part of the beach she could see in the faint light streaming out the windows, suddenly feeling endlessly tired of the whole situation. "Why did you bring me here?" Jenna rubbed her forehead. "I appreciate the effort, I really do." A small fleeing smile crossed her face and was gone before either of them knew it. "It just…" she faltered. "It doesn't help."

Not when he was avoiding even looking at her like he did when she found him in the kitchen downstairs an hour ago as he was fixing the dinner. Jenna had asked if she could be of any help but after a short hesitation Alaric assured her that he was fine and that she could just relax and enjoy herself which was a bit too much of a brush-off for Jenna's comfort. Not when he was indeed _trying_ hard but Jenna couldn't help noticing that he kept subtle distance between the two of them as if to make sure they wouldn't even touch accidentally or something, which hurt so much more than him not being entirely open with her. Not when it was a little too obvious that he definitely wanted to be anywhere else – and she knew him well enough not to see it. Not when she almost believed that they were doing well when they obviously weren't.

It was getting too much for her to bear. Would have been too much even for her old self, without a bunch of dramatically escalated emotions. She loved him but the last thing Jenna wanted was for Alaric to be with her simply because it was the right thing to do, or because he felt sorry for her, or because of something else ridiculous. And she sure as hell wanted him to stop tiptoeing around her. It was… the worst thing for either of them.

"Jenna, I don't—" His frown deepened as his heart sank and his stomach twisted when the meaning of her words kicked in, which somehow didn't make the situation any clearer as he felt even more lost now.

"Yes, you do," she interrupted him and shook her head. Took a deep breath, both to drag the time and to get prepared for what she was going to say next, hoping her voice wouldn't betray her. "Are you scared of me, Ric?" It did betray her after all, a bit too thick with emotions for Jenna's liking, but she fought to ignore it. Not losing her cool appeared to be harder than she'd anticipated. "Now that I am—"

Scared? What the hell was she talking about? Why on earth would she—

In the distance, somewhere above the peaks of the mountains, lightning torn the black sky apart, casting pale silver light all around them for a moment, followed closely by thunder that scattered across the lake and echoed in the rocks as the wind picked up even more, howling in the treetops, and the waves grew, crashing with fury against the rocks on the shore and making old dock shake slightly.

It struck him then, as shocking and unexpected as snow in July, and for a long moment all he could do was gape, at a total loss of words, and stare at her standing before him in the middle of the growing storm, looking oddly fragile and vulnerable as the wind tore at her hair and clothes. And all he could think of was gathering her in his arms, if only to make sure she wasn't cold anymore.

Jenna took his silence her own way.

"Because if it is not it, then I don't understand…" She started but the cut herself off and let out a small humorless chuckle, trying to ignore the wind that kept tossing hair in her face. "I mean, of course I do," her shoulders slumped as she looked away for a moment before fixing her gaze on him again.

In the light coming from the house all she could see was the dark outline of his silhouette, and suddenly she was grateful for it. He wasn't hard to read – basically a definition of the worst poker face ever – and she wasn't all that sure she wanted to see the answers to her questions on his face. Wasn't sure she wanted to know them, period. Yet, there they were…

"Do you think I am like her now? That I am like Isobel?" And yeah, she was well aware that she must have looked rather helpless when her arms fell to her sides, and that her voice quivered a little. "Well, I am not, Ric." Here's to self-control, huh? "I don't like this. I don't want this." And hell if she didn't mean it. "Don't you think I wouldn't do anything to change it back? To have my normal life again? You think I wouldn't take any chance if it was possible?" She paused for a moment, out of air all of a sudden. "I would never choose this. Thing is, this choice was taken away from me and all I can do now is learn to live with the consequences one way or another. But I am not _her_."

Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly how she'd imagined it would be but somehow it was too late to turn back and change the plan, or pick other words, or to just chicken out and undo the whole thing. Now that the floodgate was open, however, all she could do was move with the flow and see where it would take them, and hope that none would drown in the process.

He stiffened, his breath hitching in his throat, and Jenna didn't need to actually see it to know it. The tension was so thick in the air it was almost causing electric sparkles between them. Or maybe it was just the storm.

Alaric felt trapped, finally seeing the whole situation though Jenna's eyes and how his words and actions must have looked to her. And boy, she got it all so, so wrong! Apparently, by wanting to make it right for once, he only made it so much worse. She looked hurt, she sounded hurt, and God help him, but it looked like he successfully screwed up something he honestly believed couldn't have been screwed up even more.

"Is that what you really thought it was about, Jenna?" He asked, incredulous, clinging to the hope that maybe – _maybe!_ – he misunderstood her after all. That maybe it was all his imagination and none of it was happening for real, and her words, in fact, meant something else entirely. This whole conversation was like his worst nightmare multiplied by thousand.

"What was I supposed to think?" Her voice dropped a little, a desperate edge to it beyond Jenna's control but she chose to ignore it. "How else was I supposed to take it if you always had time to have a drink with Damon but you wouldn't even talk to me unless cornered? Do you have any idea what it felt like to watch you turn away every time I entered the room and know that t you didn't want me there?" Not that she expected him to answer. "I'm okay with you not being okay with me, Ric. With _what_ I am." Okay, she wasn't, not even a little, but she'd deal with her personal crisis as soon as she was over with _theirs_. "Just please stop pretending that you are. I don't want you do any of this because you feel obliged or for any other stupid reason. You're only making it worse."

Alaric let out a long weary sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose wondering when exactly his life got so out of control and became such a horrible mess. It wasn't how it was superposed to be. Each of her words cutting into him like a knife, merciless and unforgiving. God, what had he done?

"It wasn't this," he began, having no idea where to start to at least try and fix it. "I didn't think you'd take it that way," Alaric breathed out, taking a small step closer, hating himself with passion for making her feel that way.

Everything about Jenna tensed instantly, a defensive instinct kicking in as she fought to figure out how much more she could take before… breaking down or something. "I was scared, Ric. I _am_. Half the time I have no idea what's going on with me or what I should do with myself." She paused to take a short convulsive breath that was muted by the wind and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. "And… all this time I just needed you to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be fine, or some other big fat lie. But you only kept walking away, and I felt like I was some monster you couldn't stand being around."

And yes, it was the moment when the things became so much worse than he could have imagined, speak of impossible. "Jenna, it's not—"

_Whatever_. She shook her head, blinking the tears that welled into her eyes away so that he wouldn't see them. She was so _not_ going to cry! "I want you to take me home. Now."

_~Emptiness inside me, wonder if you see_

_It's my mistake and it's hurting me_

_I known where we've been_

_How did we get so far?_

_What if, what if we start again?_

"_Start Again" by Red~_

**To be continued….**

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><p>All sorts of feedback are always welcome! And thanks for reading it, your interest is highly appreciated!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note**: Oh god, had it really been THAT long since I updated last? O.o I didn't notice. Sorry :P No, I didn't abandon this fic or anything. Guess I was just a bit too busy lately with some RL stuff to write, or more – to type since I am basically buried in hand-written drafts :P (Anyone wanna do dirty work for me? *ahem*)

Anyway, thanks for the patience. Hope you're still interested :)))

A little warning – that adult content I believe I mentioned somewhere? You'll find it here ;) Just saying!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3 <strong>

Damon walked into the parlor in brisk stride… and then stopped short, alarmed, his vampire instincts kicking in before even his mind registered that something was off. He paused, frowning, and then scanned the room. The lights were dimmed but it wasn't that uncommon, and it definitely wasn't what caught his attention. The scent of wax candles was, he realized a few moments later. It was thick in the air, and his sensitive hearing caught the softest crackle of fire that barely lit the parlor and cast weird misshaped shadows on the walls that made the whole room look like it was moving.

It was only then that he noticed Bonnie sitting on the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed. Her lips were moving soundlessly but it was that kind of soundless that even he couldn't hear a word. Jeremy sat in front of her, his eyes fixed on the girl's face with the expression Damon thought was admiration and awe. He was about to open his mouth and comment on it – some witty quip that he simply couldn't skip – when he spotted Elena sitting on the couch, one of her legs tucked beneath her butt. Caroline was right were on the floor beside her, her hands clasped together and her gaze intense, focused and unblinking. Stefan was right there as well standing by the chair, his forearms leaved against tall back and his fingers linked. And they all looked at Bonnie.

One of Damon's eyebrows arched elegantly when his eyes landed on… Ouija Board lying on the floor before the witch. Her fingertips were on the wooden planchette, barely touching it, as the small thing glided slowly around the board pausing here and there. Jeremy's lips moved a little as well as he tracked the letters. Again, Damon barely held back the wish to remind them that using a notepad and a paper could work. But who was he to judge, huh?

"Whoopie Goldberg would kill for that show," he said as he stopped beside Stefan.

Stefan straightened up and regarded him with reproach, which Damon ignored effortlessly. Years and years of practice were good that way.

It wasn't until Bonnie opened her eyes and straightened up that he spoke again, "Care to explain?" And then looked at all of them in turns, brows still arched. "As in – what the hell is this all about?" He swept the room with one pointed look that lingered somewhat on the candles and the Ouija Board before fixing on humans – and the rest – again.

Bonnie sighed with exasperation. "I wanted to ask the spirits about, you know, Jenna." She threw a quick glance at Elena who stiffened visibly.

"With the _toy_?" Damon's jaw all but dropped as he blinked.

"It's not a toy!" Caroline pointed out defensively, making it clear whose idea it was in the first place. "It works!" She turned to Bonnie for support. "It works, right?"

The question made all of them turn to Bonnie.

"I guess," she said cautiously, obviously not comfortable under intense scrutiny. Her eyes darted towards Jeremy who obviously didn't like Damon's approach but who was also the curious one, waiting for the answer.

"_I guess?_" Damon echoed, snickering. "Right." He walked up to the cart and poured some bourbon into the low round tumbler. "Why didn't you just go to the house of one hundred dead witches and asked them? Wasn't it, like… easier?" He took a small sip and turned to her again.

"They don't like me interfering," she said if a little dryly. "They are not there as a 24/7 Wikipedia, and I have to respect that. Especially when I help the vampires."

Damon shrugged, choosing not to take it personally.

"So, did you find out anything?" Elena stepped in before the banter took another round, her voice hopeful in a _Please-tell-me-it-was-a-big-joke_ way. "About Jenna… Is it true that _he... he_ wants something with her?" And there was no need to specify who _he_ was.

"Well…" Bonnie bit her lip thoughtfully before nodding slowly. "Yeah, I did. And yes, it is true." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Jeremy sag with disappointment. "I—" She looked down at the board then. "They didn't tell anything specific though. As in why but…"

"But Klaus being after Jenna can't be good new per se," Damon finished. "What?" He rolled his eyes receiving the glares, and Stefan smacked him in the shoulder. "Just saying! You can tiptoe around it as much as you want but the truth is the truth."

"And we have no idea what he could possibly want with her," Jeremy shook his head, annoyed and frustrated. He regarded the Ouija Board darkly as if blaming a piece of wood for their trouble.

"Is there any other way," Caroline started, eyeing Bonnie thoughtfully, "to, you know, ask?"

"God, who cares?" Damon snorted before taking another sip of bourbon. All eyes were on him now, mostly furious, until he added, "What we really need to know is how to find and kill him. No Klaus – no problem. It's as simple as that!"

"But he—" Stefan frowned, his lips pursed. "There is no way kill the hybrid."

Damon beamed. "Well, in that case we should invent one." He turned to Bonnie then, "And you better not tell me you summoned some Patrick Swayze to haunt my house."

* * *

><p><em>~I don't wanna let you go<em>

_So I'm standing in your way_

_I never needed anyone like_

_I'm needin' you today…_

"_Do I have To Say The Words?" by Bryan Adams~_

Jenna didn't look at him and all but sucked in her belly when she went past him lest they touch accidentally assuming the dock was barely wide enough to give them room for maneuvers. She needed to go, to get away from him, now. God, what was she thinking? She needed— Yet, she barely managed to take a couple of steps when Alaric caught her by the wrist and span her around, and the next thing Jenna knew was that he was kissing her, desperate, needy, his fingers framing her face, raking through her hair.

Their breathes mingled as Jenna responded without so much as a second thought, deepening the kiss, acting purely on instinct, on her own need for his touch, for _him_, as she clang to Alaric, her hands clutching his shirt, pulling him close, holding him tight – neither of them noticing that another lightning pierced the sky, literary, and the rain started to fall, intensifying with every moment, cutting into their skin like ice blades. It didn't matter.

She didn't want to think, or over-think, or analyze anymore, too tired to keep it straight or reasonable. After all these days of fear, and confusion, and having too much on her mind, and not knowing what her place in this world was, she finally started to feel safe again, sane, in one piece, like coming back home at last. Something she'd lost hope for feeling ever again.

God, she wished it didn't take him this long to kiss her!

"I'm sorry, Jenna," he whispered hoarsely against her lips when she pulled back, not really having to breathe anymore but in desperate need for some air. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I never thought of you like… You're not Isobel. I swear I have never thought of you like that."

"Then what was it?"

"I —I thought you'd be better off without me."

And it took her almost half a minute to process it, what with her mind being way too hazy and unnaturally slow.

"What?" Jenna blinked, puzzled, so taken by surprise that the rest of her well-rehearsed speech simply erased from her mind, if only because she hadn't seen _that_ coming, and naturally, she had no ready response to his words. And okay, if there was anything she did _not_ expect to hear, that was it.

"After that had happened—After I let this happen to you… I should have been there, Jenna." _Not being stuck in a wreck of a house with a passed out teen and John Gilbert, of all people!_ Alaric flinched inwardly at the memory, desperately wishing he could push the deepest guilt it was making him feel into the darkest corner of his mind at least for a while. No, he was definitely _not_ going to get over it one way or another anytime soon. "I should have found a way to protect you from all this mess, to keep you safe. To keep you—" _human_.

She looked up and reached out to put her hand on his cheek, delighted by how eagerly he leaned into her touch. "And what good would it do if you died trying?" She asked in a small voice, a rhetorical question neither needed an answer to.

And she really had no idea what to think of his guilt-trip which felt both surreal and comforting at the same time. The weight of his despair so heavy she thought she could reach out and touch it, and it was painful. Yet, Jenna simply couldn't help feeling relieved knowing that the change of his attitude wasn't solely because of what she had become as she honestly didn't know how'd she cope with it had he admitted it right there and then.

"It wasn't that I didn't want to see you," Alaric breathed out, sagging in closer to her. His eyes searched her face as he reached out to touch her hair, as if to make sure she was real. "God, it could never be true, Jenna." Yeah, he hated himself for making her feel that way even for one goddamned moment. "But being around you, and wanting to be with you… I felt like I had no right for any of it, not after I failed you like that."

Jenna's lips curved. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it sounds?"

"It starts coming to me," he admitted, relieved by the easy tone of her voice. "But give it another couple of minutes to kick in properly."

"You're such an idiot," she murmured.

"Guilty."

Once inside the house, Jenna pushed the door close and leaned against it, instantly pulling Alaric down until her lips found his again, to which he complied obediently. She felt him smiling against her mouth, probably because she was smiling too, her head spinning and her stomach fluttering like crazy.

His lips felt sort and warm against hers. Jenna rose up on her toes pressing herself against him. She wrapped her arms around her neck, burying her fingers into his hair that was dump from the rain outside, and holding onto Ric for dear life. He smelled and tasted or rain, fresh and wild, and it was making her feel lightheaded and dizzy, making her want for more. She felt his arms slide around her waist. His lips parted, deepening the kiss, and everything inside of Jenna started to flutter crazily as though her entire body consisted of nothing but millions of tiny butterflies, so light and airy that she thought they were both floating.

"Jenna," Ric murmured against her mouth, the sound – both a warning and an invitation – was like an electric charge that shot through her body.

"Don't," she whispered back as her hands slid down and ended on his shoulders clutching at his shirt. His lips curved.

But then… it must have been the taste of him, Jenna figured. The beating of his heart so close to hers, his blood that she could feel coursing through his veins calling for her, making the excitement grow. Like adrenaline rush that made her entire body tremble with anticipation, with _thirst_. Even with her eyes closed, Jenna could see the world turning the shade of red. Everything about her sharpened, intensified, and it happened too fast for her to register the exact moment, as if someone just flipped the switch, triggering the process. Vaguely, Jenna noted in the back of her mind that her jaw started to change as her fangs grew longer...

She jerked backwards and out of his grip despite Alaric's resistance and looked away, panicking and gasping for air, as if his proximity was suffocating her.

"No, Ric," she whispered in a small hoarse voice when he tugged her close again, confused. "No, wait… I can't….I'm sorry, I—"

Oh God… speak of horrible timing.

Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to focus on something that wasn't an urge to feed.

She didn't want him to see her like that, frustrated by lack of proper self-control that was harder to acquire than she'd thought, embarrassed by it and scared, her mind not entirely over thinking that all this time Alaric had been pushing her away because of what she was, if only because it was a much more logical explanation than anything else, than what he had said, and she simply couldn't help it. And deep inside, part of Jenna expected – and maybe even accepted – him to want to push her away now, too. A feeling more than fully formed thought, it settled heavily in her chest as she willed herself desperately to get back to her human self, her mind reeling between the desire for blood and fear that she'd do something to screw everything up, something bad, like… like hurting him. Something that was totally out of her control and thus even more frightening.

The more startling it was when she felt his fingers brush against her cheek as he tilted her head up, propping her chin on his knuckle, making Jenna turn and face him. Her instinct was to protest as she pressed her back harder against the door – as is trying to actually break _through_ it, to escape one way or the other but he didn't seem to notice, or care – for that matter. She felt trapped. The closeness of him was as wanted as it was terrifying, almost unnatural.

"Shh, it's okay," Alaric whispered in a barely audible voice, closing that half a step of a distance between them. The skin of his palms was hot against her face as he held it between his hands, his expression wondrous as his gaze wandered around her features and his right thumb stroked her cheekbone, soothing the beast away. He leaned in then, brushing his lips against her forehead, pulling her close regardless of her faint resistance, making her weak in her knees. "It's okay, Jenna. Everything's okay."

She let her hands go up and rest on his waist, taking note of the reverse transformation her body took, her breath evening and deepening as last, the feeling of suffocation gone. Jenna looked up again then, and the next thing she knew was that he was kissing her, deep, and slow, and like all the time in the world belonged only to the two of them. But then again, maybe it actually did. And she didn't care… she just didn't care about anything else.

Alaric pulled back for as long as it took to tug Jenna's shirt off over her head and toss it aside before finding her lips with his again. Broke away again to look at her, and saw her watching him back, wide-eyes, her lips parted slightly and her gaze cloudy. She was wearing a dark-grin lace bra underneath, and his fingers trailed along the straps, and then down her sides and around her waist to end up on her hips. The contrast between the cool air outside, warmth of the house and practically smoldering heat of his touch made Jenna shiver, and she pressed herself harder against him, holding on tight, clinging, as if fearing to fall apart on her own. If she ever knew what being a live wire felt like, it suddenly gained a whole new level of intensity, making her all but melt in his hands.

Another crack of thunder startled them and made the entire house shake. Alaric paused and lifted his head up. The rain grew stronger by now, drumming against the tin roof in crazy cannonade, getting louder with each passing moment as the wind howled in the chimney and thunder clasps rolled one after another almost non-stop.

"Now that's a storm," Ric noted, smiling against Jenna's temple, holding her close.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, planting a small, feather-light kiss on his jaw. Her eyes twinkled with amusement when she looked up again and drawled, "Oh, you mean outside."

He chuckled and Jenna's grin widened, growing fond and contagious. Alaric reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers, letting himself being pulled into the depth of her blue eyes, his expression softening as her gaze locked on hers. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Jenna's eyes fluttered close and she leaned into his touch, her hands flexing on his shirt.

"You're amazing," Alaric whispered kissing his way from her temple down to her jaw line to her neck as Jenna fiddled with the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers. The delicate scent of her skin was almost intoxicating. The quiet sound of her forced breathing was driving him crazy. He trailed his hands along her arms and then down her back as his lips moved back to meet hers again, eager to sip every ounce of her. A soft moan escaped Jenna but he muted it with his kiss.

At the base of the staircase leading to the second floor, Ric released his grip to let Jenna get rid of his shirt, both of them irritated slightly when it got stuck at the cuffs. And then Jenna groaned with disappointment when she found a plain white t-shirt underneath, a very unwanted barrier between her hands and his skin she'd rather not be there.

"Do you have to wear layers?" She murmured, tugging at it impatiently.

"I pegged you for someone who appreciates challenge," Alaric teased her breathily. "It wouldn't be that interesting otherwise, no?"

To that, she only laughed.

Upstairs, he paused for a moment to let Jenna finally pull his t-shirt off, her nails scraping the skin of his back – and accident or a deliberate move he couldn't say – and making him lose his mind completely. He lowered himself on the bed, pulled her down onto himself and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as if to make sure she was real, solid, that she was not going to disappear like all the dreams that faded at dawn, leaving him empty, cold and alone. The real Jenna, however, felt so good, Ric thought, so wonderful. So right. The very idea of losing her, of losing everything that they had, was simply ridiculous, impossible.

Jenna sighed softly, relaxing against him, against the warmth of his body, her every curve fitting his like pieces of puzzles that belonged together, her hair falling down like a veil and brushing against Alaric's chest. In the eerie silvery flashes of the lightning her face was almost unearthly, glowing. His hand slid up her back to unclasp her bra. He took it off, delighted by the feel of her smooth skin on his, and realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that he had never wanted anyone so bad in his life.

"Ric…"

He put his hand on her cheek, traced her lower lip with his thumb. "You're my everything," said in a low hoarse voice before he even knew he was speaking, and with the earnestly that was overwhelming as if it was simply impossible to hold the words back.

She stilled, and it was hard to read her expression in the dark. He heard a smile in her voice, however, when she whispered, "I love you." And then leaned to brush her lips lightly against his, taunting him, her touch gentle, slow, and it was almost too much to bear.

Alaric's hand went to rest on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he held her close, tight, as if she was never enough. Which… well, which was just the case. A possessive, almost primitive gesture. _Mine. Always_.

Jenna let out a yelp of surprise when he rolled them over pinning her to the bed with the weight of his body, that morphed into a giggle and then into a quiet moan of appreciation when his lips left her mouth and moved slowly down her neck, and along her collarbone and further down her body, soft, warm, familiar, everything she ever wanted.

A pang of guilt shot through Alaric when he reached a two-inch scar on her stomach that still looked fresh after Katherine compelled Jenna to stab herself – something that he believed he should have foreseen and prevented. His insides twitched as another scary thought crossed his mind – how many times was he _that_ close to losing her? How many times did they walk on tightrope, balancing and nearly falling? How many times they were taking things for granted instead of appreciating every single moment?

"Hey, it tickles," Jenna let out a short throaty laugh when Alaric kissed her belly, the scruff on his cheeks brushing against sensitive spot of her skin. Her body stiffened when he reached for the button of her jeans and then relaxed under his touch, giving in to it, to _him_, and it took her a moment to figure out that the quiet whimper that she heard was her own.

"Oh yeah?" Alaric drawled with challenge moving up again, kiss… after kiss… after kiss. "How about that?" He took her hands in his and pressed them into the mattress above her head, their fingers entwined, as he peppered his way across her cheek and to her mouth with small messy kisses, before claiming her lips again, deep and demanding.

Jenna complied, still smiling. The sound of his heartbeat almost as loud as the staccato of rain, the feel of his skin beneath her fingers, the touch of his hands – it was driving her crazy, but God, it was a very, very good kind of crazy. There was no beginning, and no end, just her and Ric, and the sound of his voice in the dark that was making her body respond in so many ways. And the way he was making her feel… she was losing herself, completely and without looking back.

It was different than before, bigger, stronger, intoxicating, but she wasn't sure if it was only about her new nature or simply because of how much she missed him, of how much she needed him to take her mind off of everything else in a way that only he could. Tight, hot feeling in her stomach grew, getting stronger, burning her on the inside, consuming her, making her wish both to have it gone and to never lose it as she sipped in every fracture of this sweet agony while her blood boiled in her veins. All she knew for sure was that if by any chance he let go of her even for one moment, if he broke the contact, she would shatter and fall to pieces.

Breathless, Alaric pulled away from her lips and planted a light kiss on her forehead and then on her nose. Every primal instinct in him had gone ablaze, demanding for more, but he fought to keep it slow, to _feel_ every second of their time together _savoring_ her even though he wasn't sure how long he'd last, how much of this exquisite torture he could handle, what with him missing her like crazy, yet determined to at the very least try and make it perfect. To make it right. One of his hands let go of hers and he ran it through her hair letting soft silky mass slide between his fingers, his knuckles brushing against her cheek.

"I need you," Jenna breathed out, sending another wave of burning-hot desire though his body, and only realized she'd said it out loud when Alaric paused to look down at her face in the flicker of lightning with the expression she couldn't define, his eyes dark, almost black, with deep, consuming need, and his gaze holding hers for so long that she was starting to lose the track of time. But there was definitely more to it, something that made her breath hitch in her throat, and for a very long moment it felt like the time had stopped altogether. It was the moment she knew she would remember for the rest of her existence.

She pulled him down again until their lips met, her fingers fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. She gasped softly when his hand moved down her neck, and along her side, and then around her waist as Alaric pulled her closer. Her back arched to accommodate his touch, to meet him and let him fill her entire essence.

_Alive_, Jenna thought before losing track of reality. He was making her feel alive.

_~Do I have to say the words?_

_Do I have to tell the truth?_

_Do I have to shout it out?_

_Do I have to say a prayer?_

_Must I prove to you how good we are together?_

_Do I have to say the words?_

"_Do I Have To Say The Words?" by Bryan Adams~_

* * *

><p>It was a little past midnight when Elena stepped into the parlor and paused, arms wrapped around her midsection, and shifted uncomfortable from foot to foot.<p>

Damon stood by the mantelpiece staring at the fire, a glass in his hand. He didn't turn. Didn't so much as move either. Hadn't Elena known any better, she'd take him for a statue.

"You really think it is possible?" Elena asked, breaking the silence, and fighting to keep the hope out of her voice.

Damon's lips curved slightly and he brought his tumbler up to his lips to take a small sip, his eyes are still on the fire. "You're talking to me now?"

"We're not talking about us, Damon," she said in a flat voice, mentally putting the wall up between them. "I just want to know… you really think it's possible?"

Slowly, Damon turned. She could not see his face clearly now that the only source of light was behind him, and that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. It hurt her on more than one level that after all this time, after everything they had been through, she still couldn't fully trust him not to do something utterly stupid and regrettable, that she had to be cautious around him and watch her back. It wasn't how it was supposed to be, it felt wrong, and it made Elena cringe inwardly. But she didn't miss the fact that he seemed to drop the amused attitude, which… which was better than anything else at this point.

"I think that anything is possible." He shrugged, keeping the tone of his voice nonchalant, even though she didn't buy it. "Klaus is the only hybrid—"

"That we know of," she reminded him.

"—and the only one whose curse was broken," he chose to ignore her and went on. "There has to be a way to deal with it, no one just ever actually looked for it." Another shrug. "Whether it is another dagger or another curse, or both. Or something entirely different – we just have to find it, or create it, or whatever." Damon took a couple of lazy steps in her direction. "Nothing is impossible, Elena, you only have to try hard."

Elena swallowed. "And if there is nothing?"

"Then we will keep searching more until we find it," he said simply. "Last time I checked, giving up wasn't an option, period. Don't let it get you now."

"I just—why wouldn't he leave us alone?" She let her guards down and let the true emotions slip – fear, confusion, desperate need for hope.

Damon shook his head and snickered softly. "Because he has no imagination. I mean, no offence to Jenna, she's cool and all, but the guy could practically rule the world if he wanted, and he's after your aunt? She is so going to kick his ass."

Elena let the corners of her lips tug up slightly, unable to hold a small smile back. "She's not going to like it?"

"Are you kidding me? She'll be the first to grab the crossbow and make a nice pin-cushion of him. Not to mention that your history teacher deserves giving Klaus a good punch as well. Between them, I don't even think they'd need our help at all." He paused then, and cleared his throat before speaking, "Look, Elena, about the other day—"

"No," she out her hand up, interrupting him, and shook her head. "Don't go there, Damon. We're not talking about it, not now." She took a breath. "What you did…you, of all people should know what it feels like to have the choice taken away from you when you have to live with the consequences and hate them. I appreciate your help, and everything, but… but it is not something I can close my eyes to. I'm sorry but I just can't. I am not your toy, and it wasn't your call to make. I trusted you, and you broke it."

The wall was back, and so was the chill in her voice. He did not say anything, didn't try to explain himself or to justify his actions – not that it was possible per se – which Elena was grateful for. Slowly, she nodded when a few moments passed, and then turned around and left, feeling emptiness inside. she was the one looking for good in Damon – from the start, she knew there was something, and god help her, she was damn right. It was beyond her, though, how he so perfectly managed to ruin whatever shaky peace they had every bloody time, and it hurt her, and confused her. And yeah, she could see the reason behind some of his actions, but there was a limit and some things… well, some things she could not forgive.

"Elena," he called after her when she had already been in the hall and halfway to the staircase.

She stopped and turned.

Damon was standing in the entryway to the parlor, illuminated by the flickering light of fire. "I never said it but… I'm sorry about John. He wasn't my favorite person but he was your father, and I'm sorry about what happened."

Her throat tightened and she took her time before speaking. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>"I love you, Jenna," Alaric whispered grazing his lips against her shoulder. "I love you so much," his voice barely a whisper blending with the sound of rain outside. The storm seemed to have passed but the heavy drops kept hammering steadily against the roof.<p>

Jenna buried her face in a pillow and let out a muffled giggle, making the sheets vibrate with the sound. "I think I am starting to see the advantages of being a vampire," she informed him, as if sharing a secret.

Alaric chuckled. "So, there _is_ something positive about the O-negative diet, huh?"

Laughing, Jenna rolled over and half onto him, scooting closer. She folded her arms on his chest and rested her chin on top of them, studying him thoughtfully for a few moments. Her lips curved contemplatively, "Well, I can name a thing or two, I guess."

"God, you're beautiful," Alaric said, his gaze wandering around her features.

"God, you're in trouble," Jenna echoed with mock solemnity. She reached out to run her fingers through his hair, and he turned to kiss her wrist, her palm.

"Is that a promise?"

She grinned, "Oh, yeah!" before sliding down to rest her head on his chest. Tucked her hair behind her ear and then took his hand in hers, entwining their fingers.

Alaric pressed his lips to the top of her head. "My baby," he whispered, closing his free arm tight around her. He missed her. God, he missed her so much. Just being with her like that, holding her close. The taste of her, the feel of her body against his. The sense of unity. All that pace he could never find otherwise or with anyone else. Just him. Just her. The lulling sound of the rain. Her breath on his skin. And the feeling that it was meant to last forever. He wished he could just stop the time and float in this moment where nothing else mattered.

Jenna let out a soft breath, relaxing against him, her mind drifting lazily. It felt like moving through the clouds, feather-light and shapeless. Her eyes fluttered close and she blinked a few time to chase the sleepiness away. Not now. She wanted to hold onto this mellow bliss for a little while longer. Why on earth would she need sleep when she could just stay awake and listen to the beating of his heart and watch his chest raise and fall evenly as he breathed? It was so simple and yet somehow so perfect. Jenna knew she was smiling like an idiot too, and she couldn't care less.

Her eyes shifted to their linked fingers. "You have the ring back," she said, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. "It's—It's the one, right? The one you told me about?"

"Mm?" Alaric followed her gaze. "Um, yeah. That's it. Elena gave it to me. At least for now." He stroked her hair absently, fingers tangling in soft locks. "Jeremy has the one that belonged to his father, and there is not one else who it may be useful for." What with all of them being supernatural in one way or the other. Now that was a scary thought. "She said it would be fair if Isobel wanted me to have it." Paused. "And, now that John is gone…" He trailed off.

"Good," Jenna murmured. She glanced up at him and smiled. "It's so good to know… God, I have no idea how this thing works but if it keeps you safe, I don't care about the details." Her lips brushed lightly against his knuckles. "It's good to know you're safe."

Alaric's heart skipped a beat. _But I didn't keep you safe_, he thought bitterly. Wasted time, lost opportunities – they were pressing in on him, haunting him. And the way Jenna cared about his wellbeing when her own life was destroyed in a way was only making it worse. But he knew better than bringing it up now, scared of breaking the fragility of the moment more than anything. Not when they were so content. Not when he could just hold onto her in a way he feared he never would. There was nothing to be done now, nothing to undo what had happened to her, to them. And knowing that some things would never be the same hurt him. But at least he could be with her, just like before. Like nothing changed. And hell if he was going to steal it from them both.

Tomorrow all the problems, and issues to deal with, and all that load of crap that never seemed to go away – it would all still be there. He would have to call Damon, and think about what to do with Klaus, and all the other things that were making his life damn complicated, a bit too complicated for comfort. But not now. this night belonged to them.

Alaric squeezed her fingers back, ran his hand along her bare arm. "It's going to be fine, you know?" He kissed her on the forehead when she turned her face up again, sleepy, sweet and breathtaking with her flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips the he could never get tired of kissing. "I swear everything's going to be fine."

"Sure," Jenna grinned, beaming fondly and looking like a five year old in a candy shop. "Because I've got a cool magic ring of my own." A silver band holding a small lapis lazuli on her hand winked at him.

And then she suddenly stilled, her smile fading instantly, replaced by a frown, and her entire body going rigid in his arms.

"What?" Alaric frowned as well, stiffening, his instincts kicking in and a sense of alarm going ablaze at the sound of her hitched breath.

"Did you hear it?" Jenna looked over her shoulder, then untangled herself from him and sat up on the bed, holding the sheets around her body and pushing her hair out of her face as she peered into the blackness behind the half closed door to the guest bedroom.

"Hear what?" Ric asked cautiously. Everything seemed to be completely quiet and the only sound breaking the silence was the rain beating hard on the wooden walls and windows.

"The footsteps," she mouthed soundlessly a moment before his not so sensitive ears also caught a faint creak somewhere in the depth of the house.

His heat plummeted down to the pit of his stomach. Eyes on the door, he reached for the reading lamp on the nightstand and flicked the switch. Nothing happened. Everything remained plunged into deep jet blackness. And then the boards creaked again.

**To be continued….**

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><p>Um... So? ;)<p>

Reviews and comments are highly appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note**: You know what sucks? Having it all written and typed – and not having enough time to edit and update it :P Real life kept interfering, sorry. if only it was up to me, I'd be updating every day :)))

Thanks for you support and patience, guys! It means everything to me!

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Chill trickled down Alaric's spine and a huge cold hand squeezed his stomach as he feverishly flicked the lamp switch a few times. The power was obviously out.

His heart was hammering so fast that he was seeing spots dancing before his eyes.

He was an idiot! Bloody hell, what was he thinking, again? How on earth could he possibly be such a moron? How could he take her away from the relative safety of Mystic Falls and bring her... to the middle of nowhere, literary? There was no one around for miles, and he knew… he knew all along that something was not right with Klaus. He had no right to take the risk, he had no right to—

All that was flashing through Alaric's head as he rolled and scrambled out of bed, reaching for his jeans, nearly falling when his limbs got tangled in the sheets. He was not going to let anyone so much as touch Jenna. Hell, no one was going to even come near her, period.

It was quiet now, minus the pounding of the rain on the roof and his uneven breathing, and this silence seemed to be ominous, as if something was watching them from the dark, waiting for a perfect moment to strike.

His mind jumped to the stash of weapons in the trunk of his car – stakes, crossbows, vervain-filled darts, compressed-air guns and the rest of the collection that could come handy in a situation like that, stored safely out of reach. And then his heart sank when it downed on him that none of it would work on Klaus. Funny thing – nothing would work on Klaus, not now that he was a full hybrid, and that was what scared Alaric the most.

"Stay here," he mouthed to Jenna, turning to her, and saw that she had already scooped his t-shirt from the floor and pulled it on.

"What?" Jenna snapped her head up when he spoke. "Like hell!"

"Jenna…"

"No. You're going – I'm going, Ric."

"Look—" Alaric started but cut off when Jenna slipped her hand into his and squeezed it.

He could feel her fear, he could hear it in her voice, and his throat tightened at the memory of what happened the last time he'd left her when he shouldn't have, and it settled sickeningly in the pit of his stomach.

Jenna was right when she said he would most likely die if he was there, if he followed Bonnie and Damon to the woods. Well, for one thing, he never should have left her alone in the first place, not with everything that was going, and that was something that would always weigh down on him. Not that dying was a better option or a solution to their problems, of course. He wasn't keen on dying to prove something to someone, to appear being a hero, but at the same time he didn't care about the death itself. It was the very idea losing what they had, of never seeing Jenna again, never talking to her, never being with her that was unbearable to think of. But he simply couldn't help hating himself for not being there with her because – what if?

And now he was torn between locking her away somewhere until he was sure it was all over until he knew she was one thousand percent safe, and never letting her out of his slight even for one goddamned minute, if only because all sorts of crap tended to happen right when he wasn't around, and Ric was getting sick of it.

In the end, he simply nodded, cursing and kicking himself mentally for letting his guards down and losing grip on anything that wasn't _her_, for letting himself forget about their usual disaster and sink into the mellow slumber where the two of them were the center of the universe. It was mindless and unforgivable, and there was no excuse to justify it. But, God, they needed it, they both needed it so much. Ever since they got together, they barely had any time with each other, just the two of them. How could he toss the moment away? All these days apart… he missed her so bad that he thought he was losing his mind, he needed her more than air to breathe, even though, apparently, it was too much to ask for.

"Stay close, okay?" Alaric tugged her behind. Hardwood floor was cold beneath his feet and the air seemed to be particularly chilly after the warmth of the bed. "It's probably nothing—"

"I heard the footsteps, Ric."

_I did, too_. He shook his head but said nothing. This house was old, it was probably making all sorts of noises just because it felt like it, especially in the storm like this one when the thunder was making the windows rattle and the whole construction shake and tremble.

No, he didn't actually believe it, not even for one moment, if only because it was too good and simple to be true. Without any weapon – however useless it could be against the Original – he felt naked, exposed and vulnerable. And even though he knew he'd die for her without thinking twice, he someone doubted it would do any good to either of them.

A loud crack followed by a string of dull thuds made them stop and whirl around. Alaric pulled Jenna back, holding her behind as they both peered intensely into the darkness. There was a small window in the end of the corridor, and the silvery flashes of lightning outside were the only source of light that they had.

"It's coming from Miranda's room," Jenna whispered, poking over Alaric's shoulder even though he had already figured it out, too.

Everything about him was tense and stiff, she could feel the iron-firm muscles rolling beneath his skin as he was preparing for whatever might follow. His jaw was tight and his eyes were slightly narrowed and hawk-sharp. There was this weird energy coming from him, she could almost feel it with her skin – like he was a stretched-out spring waiting to be released.

And then this feeling started to creep in on her, cold and slick, like a snake wrapping around her. It was dark and sickening, and it made her want to turn around and run and hide where no one would find her. There was something wrong about it, something disturbing and terrifying, and Jenna wondered if that was what the flies felt when they were caught in the spider web.

"Looks like it," Ric mumbled without looking at her, his voice odd and strained. "Jenna, I want you to go in your room and lock the door. Now."

She didn't move. She couldn't. All she could do, in fact, was stand right there, frozen to a spot, and stare at the half-open door, holding his hand so tight she was probably half a step away from breaking his fingers. He didn't seem to notice though.

"Who knows we are here?" She asked quietly.

"Who doesn't?" Alaric breathed out. They didn't make a secret of it so half of Mystic Falls could be aware of their whereabouts by now. He squeezed her hand back one last time and then freed himself from her tight grip. "Stay here, okay?"

"Ric…" _No, please, don't go_, but her throat tightened and nothing came out.

"It's okay." _I will only go into the room with – probably – the oldest and craziest vampire in the history of… vampires, without a single weapon to protect myself, hoping that he would see me and die laughing,_ which was his only reliable method to beat Klaus at this point, or at any other point, period. Speak of hopeless situations.

The floorboard creaked beneath his bare feet and Alaric felt oddly cold and hot at the same time, his skin covered with goose-bumps but his heart pumping his blood so fast that he thought it was boiling in his veins.

He paused right outside the room, not quite sure at the moment if the sound he could still hear was coming from inside of it, or if it was his own unnaturally loud heartbeat and in reality there was only rain disturbing the silence of the house. His hands flexed, balling into fists, and he regretted he had nothing to hold on to, even if it wouldn't do any good against Klaus. Even if nothing could beat the bastard, maybe it would at the very least distract him, buy them some time.

Finally, he pushed the half-open door, making the hinges emit a low painful creak, took a deep breath, bracing himself—

The room was empty.

For a moment, Alaric simply stood there, gawking around, so much more surprised by the absence of the possible threat than he'd be if he found somewhere in there, like Klaus with the cigar in his mouth, flipping through the Gilbert family photo album. He let his gaze scan his surroundings, taking in the bed with the hand-knit coverlet, a vanity table and an old working desk in the corner and a line of framed photos on the dresser. There was a loveseat, some photos of the wall…

And it was only then that he finally saw that one of the windows was open and the wind was throwing handfuls of rain into the room as if trying to check how far inside they could land. The air was almost freezing here. Also, it didn't take him long to discover the source of the sound that definitely stole ten years of his life and gave him a great deal of grey hair – the door to the build-in closet was swung open and from where he was standing, he could see the door to the secret weaponry room swaying in the wind. Every now and then it would bang against the inside wall of the closet… which totally sounded like someone circling around the room.

Alaric let out a long breath, feeling like a balloon without air, and fought an overwhelming urge to crumple down to the floor for a while, his knees suddenly too weak to hold him in the upright position, like a jelly, and he barely suppressed a short bark of a laugh that started to rise in his throat. It was ridiculous.

"I cannot believe that," Jenna said slowly, unbelieving, as she stepped into the room. "So, the whole Hitchcock thing was about—"

Alaric's lips quirked, and, overwhelmed by relief, he chose to ignore the fact that she followed him. Klaus wasn't there after all. "Wind." He chuckled, crossing the room to close the window and promptly ignoring the puddles on the floor.

"Oh god," she breathed out, raking her fingers through her hair; let her gaze wander around the room. The small door was still now that the wind died out. "It sounded so—so real."

"Tell me about it," Alaric muttered.

He took his time to study the handle and the lock. It was old, rusted and a little bit loose but not damaged or broken as far he could tell. There was no sign of anyone being there, and the only footprints on the floor were his own.

"The wind must have pushed it open," he said more to himself than to Jenna and finally closed the window shut – before he froze to death or something. He approached her, his lips formed into a crooked smile at the sight of her _What the hell was that_ expression. Well, now that the crisis was over and everything was fine, eve had every right to be amused because – _really?_ "Come on, let's go. It's too cold here."

"I should _so_ cut down on horror movies," Jenna shook her head when they walked into the corridor and he pulled the door close behind them.

Ric reached out to stroke the side of her face. "Well, after everything that happened…" he trailed off, making sure it sounded easy and more like a joke than anything else. Jenna looked up, her lips forming into a small smile. "Plus, the whole entourage, you know," he looked around and shrugged.

His own insides were still shaking and flopping. Overreacting much? Maybe, but it wasn't like it had been totally uncalled for either. It _could have been_ Klaus. It could have been anyone because that was what their lives were about – balancing on the tightrope, always trying to stay a step ahead, always being the targets, in danger, never having any right for mistake because mistakes meant death, or something much worse than death.

And Alaric had made enough of them already. He had nearly lost the woman that meant a world to him more times than he could count. No one could be too cautious in a situation like that. Being overly paranoid, however, was a way to go. And paranoid he was, Ric added sarcastically in his mind. Over the last few years he had learned to trust his instincts above all, to listen to his inner voice even when the facts were screaming the opposite, even when everything was telling him otherwise, against logic and common sense. Instincts were what kept him alive. And a few minutes ago he had the nagging feeling of wrongness, of danger that made his skin crawl. And look how it ended – with an open window and a draught! He definitely needed a break.

"It's an old house," Jenna called back. "The power is not always stable, especially when the storms hit."

As if to prove her point, the lights in the corridor blinked once and went out. Then blinked again and stayed, making the old fridge downstairs in the kitchen let out a satisfied growl, and instantly the whole place was filled with warmth and coziness, and the monsters that were lurking in the darkness awoken by the primitive instincts were gone, making their creeping around and jumping at every sound seem utterly ridiculous by the moment.

Alaric looked up and down the corridor again. He could still feel cold air coming from beneath the door to the master bedroom – it would took a while for it to warm up perhaps – but other than that, everything seemed to be fine, nothing out of ordinary.

He turned to Jenna and reached out to tip her chin up, making her look at him. "Hey, you okay?" His eyes searched her face, a concerned crease deep between his brows.

She smiled faintly and made a funny face. "Yeah, except that I feel like a jumpy elephant that was spooked by the mouse." And added thoughtfully with mock seriousness, "On that note, I'm glad elephants are _not_ jumpy."

Alaric laughed softly in disbelief. It was so Jenna to turn the whole happenstance into a joke.

"Guess you're right about that," he agreed, mimicking her expression. "Look, I better check other windows, make sure they are locked. Unless the near heart-attack experience is the flavor of the night." His eyebrows arched.

Jenna nodded. "Right. Sure. I think I'll go and make us some hot chocolate."

"With marshmallows?"

"Oh yeah," she grinned.

"Good."

Alaric ran his hand up and down her arm and grazed his lips against her temple, his warm breath tickling her skin, making a wave of pleasant shiver run through her, and for a moment the only thing Jenna really wanted was to lean into him for a while and just hold onto him, feel his arms around her body – a perfect fit. Instead, she gave his hand a small squeeze and padded downstairs where the mouthwatering scent of their forgotten dinner was hanging in the air. Her lips curved of the will of their own, however, and she looked over her shoulder. Alaric was out of her line of sight but she could hear him walking around the second floor, and she bit her lower lit, trying not to smile even wider even though there was no one to see.

She felt good, Jenna thought. She felt so right, so safe with him, so utterly amazing like they were two halves of a whole, and without each other they would be lost, incomplete. She never could have imagined she'd feel like that – didn't even know it was possible. And yet – here she was, turned into a vampire (good Lord!), having so much of her hands that her head was spinning non-stop… and yet feeling much better than she did in a very long while.

Minus the vampire paranoia thing, she cringed. What happened upstairs… it left her uneasy and somewhat edgy in a way Jenna couldn't explain. Rummaging through the cabinets, she tried to push it away, but it kept wiggling its way back into her head with annoying persistence, making her wonder what exactly was so off that was making her feel that way. Was it only about the _vampire's amplified feelings_ situation that she knew she was not coping well with sometimes? Or was it—

No. She shook her and chewed on her lower lip. But what if—?

Alaric found her in the kitchen half an hour later – which was as long as it took him to check and double check every single door and window in the house. And also grab a few stakes from the Gilbert secret stash and put them into the nightstand drawer in Jenna's room which he tried not to think much about – like, before they ended up barricading the door or something. He did, however, check every closet as well, as if Klaus could actually choose them as a hiding place to jump out screaming _Boo!_ when they would pass by but he simply couldn't help it. Just like all these months after Isobel had gone missing when he was mental about checking every bloody lock at his place before going to bed at night and keeping two stakes under his pillow – back when he didn't know the back story and expected them to come for him as well.

Obsession wasn't quite covering it – he felt truly and entirely crazy. Hell, it took him months to even start sleeping with the lights off – on the nights he opted for sleep at all – and to stop jumping whenever he heard the sounds of the nightlife outside his window. And that was when he didn't have much to live for.

Now he could feel the fear rushing back in, wave after wave after wave. He was scared – scared beyond himself to even think about losing her, about not being able to protect her, to keep her safe this time, about being helpless to do anything at all but watch everything he lived for slip away. It was eating Alaric on the inside. She chose him, she trusted him, and God only knew what he did to deserved it. He had no right to let her down, in any way. Not after failing her so many times already. Not after all this time that he kept pushing her away, too disturbed and damaged after what Isobel did to him.

He called Damon, too – to find out the unnerving news about the Ouija Board experiment, which did nothing to make him feel any better. No, he still wasn't sure he could trust the spirits blindly, but he also couldn't dismiss their messages either, not when so much was at stake.

Jenna was pouring hot chocolate in two matching mugs when he entered. She turned and handed one over to him taking a small sip out of hers.

"Thanks," Alaric smiled, taking it from her and bent down to kiss her on the forehead, his body still buzzing with adrenaline, his head spinning. "It smells delicious."

"I guess you can start telling me what's going on, Ric."

He pulled back, frowning. "What are you—?"

"You should've seen your face up there," Jenna chuckled ruefully, looking up at him. "The end of the world and Godzilla attack, combined and multiplied. And you called Damon," she added. One of his brows arched. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just kind of… can't turn it off."

Alaric sighed. He put his mug down and scrubbed his hand down his face, then rumpled his hair as his brain searched for a right way to start. He had to tell her, and he was going to – if only because they had already checked how the secrets worked, and it wasn't pretty since keeping someone in the dark in order to keep them safe was, apparently, working the other way around. But it didn't mean that dropping a bomb like that on her was easy. "Hey, you know that? That vampire that killed and turned you, and then killed you again, as well as half of your family? Well, he is up for more! Wanna go grab some pizza now?" She had already had enough to deal with, and the last thing Alaric wanted was to put yet another burden on her shoulders. Not that he had much of a choice at this point…

He took a breath, fixed his eyes on hers, finding it impossible to make. "It's Klaus."

As much as he didn't want to break the spell of the night, as much as he hated pulling them both back to reality which was making the horror movies look like Disney channel stuff, she had to know.

Jenna stiffened beside him as she listened. "I don't understand." She bit her bottom lip and looked helplessly at him. "What does he wasn't from me?"

There was no concern yet, only surprise. "We don't know that," Alaric told her honesty. He leaned against the counter, placed his hands on both sides of his hips as he watched her pace impatiently in circles before him, soft lights in the kitchen making her hair glow like a halo.

"But—" she ran a hand through her strands, her brows pulled together in confusion. "Why me?"

"Probably because of what you are."

Jenna paused and turned to him. "A _vampire_?"

"Not just a vampire. You were created by an Original and a witch."

She blinked. "And that makes me what, a vampires Wonder Woman?"

He couldn't help smiling at that, a small fleeting smile that was gone before he even knew it was there. "I don't know, Jenna. I'm not even sure that it's true, if the spirits didn't lie. Bonnie is not their favorite person now that she helps the vampires."

"But?"

Alaric watched her for a moment. "But you were dead." His voice was thick and quiet. "Back in the woods—_vampire_-dead." A stake in her heart – that was what Damon told him. That was how they found her. He never really talked about it with Jenna, none of them comfortable with the subject to reminisce about the details. But he was still waking up at night with the mental image before his mind's eye, covered in sweat and gasping for air, as if he'd seen it, as if he'd been there when it happened. "And then you weren't…" He trailed off.

"But, it was—I thought… Bonnie… didn't she—didn't she do it?"

Alaric rubbed his eyes. "Maybe," he breathed out.

Jenna swallowed uneasily and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. _Maybe_. "You thought it was him? Here in the house, you thought it was Klaus? You thought he came for me?" She didn't need him to say anything to know the answer, though. Still, Alaric nodded reluctantly. "But—how could he—I thought the vampires had to be invited in."

"Only to the places where humans reside." Jenna frowned, and he reminded her, "You came in here without invitation."

"Because… it's my place, legally speaking?" She supposed.

"Doesn't work like that." He shook his head, hating pretty much everything about this situation. "Once you're a vampire it doesn't matter." Alaric cleared his throat, basically chocking on the words. Her confusion echoed painfully in him. _How_ was it even possible that he was standing here and explaining to her what being a vampire meant? It reminded him too much of a horror movie, in which everyone was doomed to die in the end. "This house belonged to you and Elena. She was dead for a while after the ritual before the spell brought her back to life, which made this place vampire-welcome. If, um—if Jeremy was mentioned in the papers, he'd have to invite you in."

"Oh." Jenna's shoulders sagged and she sank heavily down onto one of the chairs near the dining table and stared at her hands clasped together on her lap.

Alaric pushed himself off of the counter and crouched down beside her. "Hey," he reached to tilt her chin up, and then took her hands in his and offered her a small half-smile when their eyes met.

"They don't have the manual with all the rules, do they?"

"Not really." Ric searched her face for a few moments. It hurt to see the fear in her eyes that she desperately tried to fight back. "He is not going to do anything you, Jenna. I swear to god, whatever Klaus wants from you, he is not going to get it."

_Like anyone can order Klaus around_, Jenna thought bitterly.

"I just want it to end," she said wearily. "I want everything to get back to normal." _As far as normal went when you were your own worst nightmare_.

"I know, honey." He sighed, and then rose to his feet, pulling her up as well. "Iit's going to be fine," he whispered kissing the top of her head as he ran a soothing hand up and down Jenna's back.

It was a lie. She knew it was – how could anything be fine when she was that very thing that she was supposed to protect her sister's children from? It was like a definition of failing in every possible way, and it definitely wasn't what Miranda had in mind when they were signing the guardianship papers – but she was grateful to Alaric for it, for a small moment when she was able to pretend that there was a tiny glimpse of hope for all of them.

Jenna let him wrap his arms around her body and leaned into his embrace, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. The kitchen was warm and the heat of Ric's body against hers, so much more prominent now than ever before, was comforting but she couldn't help feeling that she was shaking all over from the chill that settled deep inside of her, as if the blood in her veins started running cold, a streak of icy needles.

She let her breathing sync with his heartbeat as her eyes fluttered close. It felt so good to simply stand like this, have him hold her, listen to him whisper something that had no sense but that meant so much. Why couldn't it be like that forever? Why did they have to struggle so hard for every single moment of their lives? Why there always had to be some drama of the week to deal with? Why couldn't they just… be?

Jenna sighed subtly.

Her whole life was nothing but a string of stupid mistakes, regretful decisions and all sorts of other things she'd rather forget for good. On top of it, losing Miranda was like a sucker punch, and in a matter of seconds her entire world had been turned upside down, leaving her lost and broken and having nothing and no one to turn to. It took her weeks to simply absorb the idea of never seeing her sister again, of having a part of her dead as well.

She loved Jeremy and Elena more than anything, ever, but she had no idea what to do with them when it all happened, not really. It was nothing like hanging out with them on Christmas or Thanksgiving, it wasn't simply about having fun anymore, and it was frightening. Jenna never thought about what it could be like to actually be responsible for two lives that depended on her in every possible way, she didn't know how to make it right. She wasn't ready for it and, honestly, she was an awful parent on more than one occasion.

But after all these months, they were finally getting somewhere, weren't they? Jeremy's grades improved from _near-drop-out_ to… well, _I-hate-school-but-I-will-suck-it-up_. She stopped wanting to go and drown herself in the sink every other day, feeling useless and miserable, and that was definitely a good sign. There was laughter again, the easiness she only remembered from _before_. They were finally making progress, and she tried so, so hard to make it work. She'd lost her sister, yes, her best friend if you please, but she also had to remember that Jeremy and Elena had lost their parents, and god only knew how hard it really hit them.

And then Alaric happened. And suddenly it was like all pieces fell together, and everything felt so right for once – that wonderful happiness, and fooling around like two dorks, and her _can't-eat-can't-breath-butterflies-in-the-stomach_ high-school crush when she could simply sit and stare at him for hours wearing the goofiest face ever and it felt better than anything.

It wasn't right, it wasn't fair to have all the good things taken away from her like that. Why did it have to happen that soon? Why did the price for every small moment of happiness have to be so high?

Ric… he seemed to be all sorts of perfect from the start, Jenna was thinking now. He was good with Jeremy and Elena, which basically was what mattered the most. And his life baggage? Missing wife and stuff? Yes, complicated but it was also what made him the person that Jenna lost her mind over completely. He felt… special in a way she couldn't explain, and her heart was flip-flopping whenever she was merely thinking about him.

It wasn't easy, and it wasn't simple, but in the end this whole thing with him also proved why it never worked with anyone else in the past. Jenna had no idea it was even possible to feel like that about someone. It was making her warm and cozy and full of sunshine, however ridiculous it sounded. It was amazing, truly amazing, and every moment of it, of this feeling – it was never enough, in a fantastic way.

Jenna buried her face in his chest, tightening her grip on him as if he could disappear if didn't hold on. They'd been through a lot and they'd made it through somehow, they'd been strong enough to get to where they were now. It counted for something, right?

Yet, she couldn't help feeling that it was slipping away like a handful of sand through her fingers. She kept losing everything that she had, everything that mattered, and she felt powerless to do anything about it…

"Would you like to go home?" Alaric asked softly, pulling her out of the tangle of her messy thoughts.

"Mm?" Jenna looked up at him.

"We can go back to Mystic Falls anytime whenever you want."

"No," she shook her head and smiled. "It was just the wind, not the attack of the Jurassic Park vampires."

"Sure?" She nodded. "All right." He stroked a strand of hair framing her face. "Come on, let's go back to bed."

* * *

><p>Elena rubbed tiredly at her sandy eyes and stifled a yawn, mostly out of fear to twist her jaw. Her neck was sore and her back was stiff as a board, and she felt like she was half a step away from killing someone for coffee, shower and sleep, in any order.<p>

She turned when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw Caroline stepping into the enormous Salvatore library.

"Hi," the blonde girl waved at her and smiled.

"Hey," Elena croaked back and did yawn this time.

Caroline frowned a little when she swept the stacks of books lying before her on the massive table and then gave Elena a long appreciative once-over.

"Have you stayed up all night?"

"What time is it?"

"A little past seven."

Caroline sank into the vacant chair and dropped her bag to the carpeted floor beside her feet.

Elena sighed. "Then yes, I guess I stayed up all night." She looked helplessly at the John Gilbert's journals – the whole collection – scattered all around her. "I hoped I could find something in one of these," she explained, answering Caroline's unasked question. "Stefan and I—we found some information about the Originals in them. About the dagger and how to use it and stuff."

"But not on Klaus," Caroline supposed which sounded more like a statement.

Elena shook her head. "No. Nothing that we don't already know about the Originals, and nothing at all about the hybrids."

"They probably never knew the hybrids could, you know, exist."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Look, Elena, I'm sorry, about Jenna and all," the vampire girl started after a short hesitation, her eyes cast down and her fingers fiddling with her scarf. "If Damon hadn't—"

"I hate it," Elena interrupted her. She sagged against the back of the leather armchair and pinched the bridge of her nose willing the headache to back away as she heaved a weary sigh.

"What?"

"Having to choose." Elena stared sightlessly out the window where the sky was turning from dusk purple to daytime blue. "Between people I love. having to sign your death sentences. If Damon hadn't come, it would've been you and Tyler who'd end up dead. You made it out, which, believe me, I am endlessly grateful for." She offered Caroline a small smile that had a shade of defeat to it. "But now it's Jenna, and—" She pushed her hands helplessly through her hair. "I can't let anything happen to her now. he'd done enough to her already. After all this time, and after keeping all of that from her for so long, I owe her that much. She is all Jeremy and I have left. He can't keep losing his family because of me."

Slowly, Caroline nodded. "How's she doing?"

"Jenna? Processing." Elena smiled if a little ruefully. "To learn the truth and then to be turned and nearly killed in a matter of hours is more than either of us had to deal with, ever. But… it's Jenna. She'll be fine as long as certain species stay away from her."

"Well, now that you've mentioned it, when it comes to Jenna, it's Klaus we should be worried about," Caroline chuckled, making Elena snicker.

"Guess you're right. I'm glad Alaric took her away for a while though. God knows they both need a break." She rubbed her forehead. "This whole situation is not easy for him either, especially after Isobel, and, you know, the Katherine story. He takes it hard."

"Yeah, not something to write home about," Caroline agreed, wincing.

Elena turned and searched her friend's face for a few moments. "You okay?" She asked softly, feeling guilty for being so absorbed in her own drama that she completely ignored the rest of the world.

Caroline's lips formed into a bitter smile. "Matt dumped me because he can't handle what I am now."

Elena reached out and squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry… He'll come around eventually. I'm sure he will, Caroline. Just give him some time."

"I don't think so," the girl sighed. "This thing with Vicki…. it left him pretty shaken, and the fact that I knew the truth for a while but never told him isn't helping the matters. He thinks I was covering up for Damon… which I was, technically…" She trailed off. "And then there's mom," Caroline bit her bottom lip. "I can't believe she knows about me – about all of us, and I kinda have to tiptoe around her and avoid her as much as I can these last few days because she doesn't know that I know that she knows—it's a mess."

"You should talk to her."

"I can't." Caroline clasped her hands together, then unclasped them, and then looked helplessly at Elena. "She hates the vampires. She grew up hating them. When she found out that I was one of them the first time—the way she looked at me—like I was some monster, which okay, I was, but… it was like I really died for her, and it's much worse now. She even schemed this thing with Matt, talked him into pretending that he forgot everything so that he could go and tell it all to her."

"Matt's confused now, and so is your mom. But—they still love you, and Matt is not a bad guy."

"Of course he is not. But he is not you. I don't think he can accept me the way you accepted Stefan, you know? Looks like me being not exactly human is a big thing for him, bigger than what he wants to deal with. It's not like I blame him…" She shrugged and changed the subject. "Are you going to school today?"

Elena checked the clock on the wall, hesitating for half a second. "I guess I should. Maybe it'll put my mind off of this stuff for a while, which can't be a bad thing." She looked at the journals again but decided to leave them as is for now seeing as to how she'd have to get back to them later and continue digging. Sleep was a better option of course. She was exhausted beyond herself, but her mind was too agitated, too disturbed to actually let her rest. "Just give me a few minutes to take a shower and change, okay?" _And maybe find my brains and put it back in my skull_. She stood up. "There's… um, there's coffee in the kitchen. I'll be back soon."

Caroline nodded. "Take your time. My only other option is to go back home where my mother may be planning to kill me in my sleep."

Elena paused. "Don't say that, she would never do it."

"See, that's the problem, Elena. She very well might."

* * *

><p>"Any news on Klaus?" Alaric asked after catching up on basic stuff, which was none.<p>

"_He stopped by for dinner, told to say Hi_," Damon sing-songed back.

"Ha-ha, funny."

"_What? It wasn't what you were asking?_"

So, nothing then, and Ric wondered if it was a good or a bad sign, knowing in the back of his mind that there was no such thing as a good sign in regards to Klaus. He didn't like the silence, and he didn't like the waiting, and most of all he didn't like not knowing what the bastard was up to.

"Not really, but it would suffice," he muttered.

"_Hey, do you know that you probably ditched more classes than all of your students_?" Damon quipped nonchalantly.

"I'll compensate by giving them extra quiz."

"_And how's __**that**__ fair?_" It was without a doubt a jaw-dropping moment, and Alaric all but sneered.

"The very concept of high school is not fair, Damon. They have to suck it up and deal with it. Um, look, I've got to—"

"_Yeah, whatever. Have fun_." And the vampire hung up.

Alaric looked down at the screen where the timer stopped at three minutes twelve seconds and shook his head. Trust Damon to be… well, Damon.

Okay, naturally, he wasn't looking forward to hearing – "We're all hostages and he pokes up with the broomstick every now and then". But the lack of news was frustrating. This silence was like a calm before the storm, and Alaric didn't like it. He couldn't help looking over his shoulder, figuratively speaking, always expecting… something. It was getting on his nerves at this point if only because it was the worst – waiting, not knowing, feeling helpless.

He put his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, grabbed their jackets and stepped outside through the glass doors that were facing the lake and a scatter of hills rolling on the other side of it. It was a little past four in the afternoon and low sun was casting long shadows that fell across gravel shore. Light breeze was whispering softly in the trees interrupted by occasional chirping of the birds. After the storm, the air smelled of freshness, damp earth and dry leaves. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and for a moment Alaric wondered if it was real for nothing about his life was that serene for so long that he almost forgot the feeling.

He paused at the edge of the back deck when he spotted Jenna standing by the dock watching the water as small waves splashed at her feet and the wind toyed lazily with her silky mass of honey-colored hair that seemed to be full of sunlight.

His heart jolted with bittersweet pain and overwhelming helplessness.

They'd been cheated so much – by life, by time. Especially by time as neither had nearly as much as they needed, having everything taken away from them before they ever realized they had it. It was wrong, so wrong. And it was what was making him want to scream and punch something hard.

And Jenna… god, her only fault was giving up on everything that she had and everything that she was for the people that needed her most without so much as thinking twice. He didn't get it, he simply didn't. Why her? He would probably understand if it happened to him, Alaric thought. After all, he had his share of mistakes to pay for. Her? She simply ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he neglected it, which made it just as much his fault as it was Klaus'.

But he was not going to lose her, he was not going to let go of her ever again. Regardless of what had happened, regardless of anything, she was still Jenna, and he loved her more than he thought was possible.

Finally, Alaric pushed himself to start moving again. He crossed the narrow strip of the shore, listening to the gravel crunch beneath his feet, wondering what it would be like if they just never left that place. The idea of staying here and pretending that all was right in the world was suddenly appealing like never before.

"Here you are," he whispered, draping Jenna's jacket over her shoulders and putting his arms around her, holding her close.

"Hi," she looked up and smiled.

"Hi," he kissed her hair, breathing in sweet, delicate scent that was making his head spin every single time she was near.

It was on the moments like this that Alaric was starting to question the reality and wonder if maybe certain things only happened in some wicked nightmare of his, and then he woke up eventually but never realized it. Or maybe it was a serious case of denial on his part that was totally out of his control. In any case, his mind refused to accept the truth on more levels than he could count. It was almost like seeing something and being told that it didn't exist at the same time.

How could Jenna be a vampire if she felt nothing like one, if everything about her was as wonderful as always? How could he believe that she had changed – god, she _died_ – when he could still kiss her, and hold her, and laugh with her, and it felt just like before, or maybe even better now that he was leaning to appreciate every minute they got to spend together? She was nothing that Isobel was, and even though he had no right to think about that or compare them, he still couldn't help being truly amazed by how strong she was fighting like that for her humanity, and if only it was possible to keep falling for someone over and over again, that was exactly what he was doing every single moment of his life.

"I didn't even realize how much I missed this place," Jenna said meanwhile, oblivious to his thoughts. "I'm glad that we came."

"It wasn't a bad idea," Alaric agreed. He grazed his lips against her cheek, and then the gentle spot right beneath her earlobe, making Jenna giggle.

"Hey," she turned to him, "there are a few trails around the lake. Want me to show you around?"

He hesitated, considering her offer and how reckless it was to not only come here unprotected but also wander into the woods somewhere on the scale from one to suicidal. Common sense was telling him to grab Jenna and haul her back to Mystic Falls where they could at the very least try and fine some relatively safe place, and maybe even stay there for the rest of their lives. But even to him it looked pretty much like a one-way ticket to the room with padded walls, and he didn't want to start moving in that direction again.

"Sure," Alaric nodded at last.

It didn't look like a good idea, truth be told, and his first impulse was to say that they'd better stay closer to the house. Problem was, they weren't any safe inside than they were outside since it was almost like using the blanket as a shield from the bullets – Klaus would only laugh and then tear it down without so much as breaking a sweat, so why refuse having a nice walk and playing along with the "Let's pretend that nothing is wrong" plan?

Leaves and grass rustles beneath their feel as they strolled down the narrow path that ran along the edge of the water. Jenna took his hand and laced their fingers, and Alaric could feel the warmth of her touch flow into his arm and spread all over his body. She was telling him about how they used to have a tire swing on the tree by the water and you could jump from it right into the lake, and he was smiling to himself as he listened to her, thinking that the moments like these were the ones worth fighting for.

…He recalled waking up a few hours ago to the sun beaming right in his face. The sky outside the window was bright blue… and Jenna wasn't there. Panic mixed with horror jolted through his body as he sat upright with the lightning speed, having the worst scenarios flashing through his mind.

"Jenna," he called but it came out hoarse and almost soundless, his throat gripped with suffocating terror.

He all but rolled down the wooden staircase, taking two steps at a time… and then stopped short in the doorway to the kitchen, breathing hard like after a ten-mile run, when he spotted her standing by the counter and filling the coffee machine. She was still wearing his shirt from the night and her hair was a cute after-sleep mess.

She turned when she heard him – which was impossible to miss since he must have awoken every single living being for miles and miles around.

Alaric saw a blood bag in her hand, and her eyes darted downwards for a moment before she asked, "Want some?" as she took a sip through the straw, making him break into a relieved smile.

Without saying a word, he crossed the distance between them and simply pulled her into a circle of his arms, burying his face into her hair for a little while, fully aware of the fact that she could probably feel his escalated heartbeat, and knowing that he would probably keep going through all seven circles of hell every time she'd be out of his line of sight. But it didn't matter. Her body was warm against his and the air around them was filled with the smell of fresh coffee, and it was… for a moment it was all he needed to keep his balance in this world.

"Wow," Jenna let out a soft laugh. He could feel her breath on his skin. If the gesture surprised her, it didn't take her long to cope with it and relax into his touch. "Did I wake you?" She asked.

"No."

A pause. "You okay, Ric?"

He nodded after a moment or two before straightening up to look at her. "Yeah, sorry… um, bad dream." He grimaced a little. Lame. Jenna's eyebrow arched. "Real bad stuff," he added and slanted down to claim her lips with his for a long, slow kiss.

"And, good morning to you, too," she whispered breathlessly when he pulled back as a wide grin spread all over her face….

The wind tossed Jenna's hair in her face and she tucked hem behind her ears with one hand. It was a little better here, not as overwhelming as it was in Mystic Falls, which suddenly started to feel like Manhattan on Monday morning instead of a small upstate town with all these sounds around her. People talking, dogs barking, cars passing by, plus a million of other things she had never been able to detect before that were shoved right in her face now. It was too confusing at times, making it hard to concentrate on something else.

Being able to block them all out and learn to pick only those that she needed or wanted to hear would take a while, and she knew it, and was more than willing to be patient about it. But it still was nice to have a little break and finally take a breath, what with her head buzzing 24/7. Especially if she could spend some time with Ric.

…After all that mess with the broken window, they stayed awake half of the night lying face to face on one pillow snuggled close to each other, and talking about everything and nothing. Alaric took her hands in his to keep them warm, slowly kissing one finger after another, his eyes locked on hers, and that simple gesture was so full of affection that Jenna had to swallow past the tight lump that formed in her throat.

"What does it feel like?" He asked in a low whisper after a little while.

Jenna let her lips stretch into a huge grin. "What does _what_ feel like?" She asked innocently.

Alaric rolled his eyes, "I kinda figured that _some_ things feel good," as if saying _Yeah, go on, keep rubbing it in my face, you tease_, making her giggled. He bent to kiss her smiling lips before letting out a subtle sigh, his amusement fading a little. "No, I mean—what does it feel like to be… a vampire?"

Jenna watched him for a few moments, as if she half-expected for the question to come at some point and yet – wasn't sure how to answer it.

"Look, forget it—"

"No, no, it's fine, it's just…" A small, shaky laugh escaped her lips. "It's not that easy to put it into words, exactly." She made a funny apologetic face. "It's—it's basically the same, I guess. Only not really… People – humans – are very, um, socially oriented, whereas for the vampires it's all about the instincts." She paused, raking her brain for the way to explain it properly. "Like, when I'm hungry… thirsty, it's all I can think about, like the rest of the world disappears, and it's only me and this desire for blood. It's hard to control, and it's almost impossible to fight, and I feel trapped as if my mind is locked in the body that doesn't belong to me." She grimaced a little. "Yeah, not the most uplifting information, I know."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side before dinner."

"Hey!" She mock-slapped his hand.

"Ouch! And raging violence goes with the package?"

Jenna snorted. "You're impossible."

"You have no idea," Alaric agreed easily, letting out a soft laugh, and then rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. "So… it's not that bad?"

"Nothing I can't deal with." _Except that I'd rather not have to_. "It's—interesting. I can see better. Move faster. Everything is sharper… like if I had spent my whole life looking outside through the tinted window, and then it's suddenly crystal clear."

She couldn't help wondering how he would feel about all of that (What if she said too much? What if she didn't say enough? What if it would be too big for him to process, to accept?) but he was simply listening with genuine curiosity, his heartbeat an even thump somewhere in the periphery of her attention, a lulling, familiar sound Jenna could no longer see her world without. The world that this very moment consisted only of the two of them. If sleeping with Alaric was… well, beyond great, no doubt about that, it was still the intimacy of another kind that she appreciated the most. The closeness, being able to talk to him about anything and knowing that he would always be there for her, like she would always be there for him – that was what mattered more than anything. It was such a relief to know that they still had it, that is wasn't gone.

"The only downside is that emotional overload that gets too much sometimes. Like when I thought that we were over—" she stumbled a little and then finished in a whoosh of breath, "it was like the end of the world."

Alaric stiffened. "Jenna, I'm so sorry—"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't." Her eyes searched his face for a few moments, her features softening in near dark. "I shouldn't have brought it up but… I just wanted to say how good it feels now." She craned her neck and brushed her mouth against his, unable to hold back the smile. "Better than anything."

"Tell me about it," he chuckled, relaxing, and reached out to touch her face, brush a strand of hair away from her forehead before pulling her fully to himself, her arms now trapped between their bodies. "But I bet we can try and make it even better than that…"

…She couldn't say she wasn't bothered by what he'd told her about Klaus the previous night. Hell, she was horrified. The man wasn't just a big bad bloodsucking wolf. He was a whole new level of a nut-job, sick and obviously insane. She had never seen such endless emptiness and cruelty in someone's eyes. Pure, cold calculation – _I need it and I'm going to get it regardless of who is going to die in the process_. That was how the snake was probably looking at the rabbit before swallowing it whole. There wasn't a smallest trace of humanity left in him, and Jenna wasn't delusional in his regards. Being on his down side was bad news, and assuming his previous achievements – faking the curse to track down the components that could help him break the one that was biding him, possessing Alaric to get to them in the only way that let him stay out of suspicion, and god knows what else – she wasn't too optimistic about it either.

The memory of Ric being in complete mercy of the monster made Jenna swallow uneasily and she clutched his hand a little bit tighter as if to reassure herself that he was okay. Klaus could have hurt him, or… worse. She pushed the thought away. She didn't like the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach it was causing. And she didn't like thinking that if only some things went a little bit different, they wouldn't be here now. They wouldn't be having this, or anything at all for that matter. They'd be robbed again.

It scared her how fragile was every moment of their lives, making her want to find a way to freeze in time and never move forward. It didn't mean she liked being what she was now but her only choice was to give up or to play the hand she'd been dealt.

"Jenna?"

She whipped her head and found Alaric watching her quizzically.

"You alright?"

"Sorry," she shook her head. "It's, um… why do the mosquitoes still bite me, by the way? Shouldn't I be the big bad biting thing around here?" She wrinkled her nose at the small mark on the back of her hand.

He scoffed, "They didn't figure out who the real boss is yet." She laughed, and then they walked in silence for a few minutes, until he asked. "I just—you sure you're okay? You've been… quiet."

Jenna stopped and turned, making him all but bump into, his arm sliding around her waist to steady them both. She rose on her toes to brush her lips against his. "Yes. Yes, I am…." Their gaze locked. "I don't like this, Ric. I want my normal life back. I am scared half the time because I have no idea what's going on with me. And I'm sure it wasn't Miranda's idea of how I should be taking care of her children." She paused. "But hell if I am not going to make the best of what's coming my way. And this, here," she ran her fingers through his hair, rumpling it – not that the wind didn't do the job already, "it feels amazing."

"It sure does," he pulled her closer, smiling, and claimed her mouth with his.

"I forgot to thank you for the rose," Jenna said suddenly, her fingers now fiddling with the lapel of his open jacket. "It was beautiful."

Which could have been her speaking Chinese since Alaric could've understood just as much. And whatever it was, it left a heavy sickening feeling in his stomach – and he knew instantly that he didn't want to find out.

"The rose?" He tried to keep the voice calm, even.

Yet, something about him must have triggered the alarm.

Jenna's smile faded. "The rose you've left on the pillow…" She began warily.

Oh god… Alaric's heart plummeted down. "When?"

"In the morning, when I was in the shower… what's going on, Ric?"

He watched her for a few long moments feeling like someone had turned off the sound all around him, and all he could hear was the racing of his heart.

"I didn't leave anything for you, Jenna."

**To be continued…. **

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><p>Comments, reviews, etc. are always welcome!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note****s**: yep, I'm not dead! Thank you so much for your patience! I have no words to say how much I appreciate it :) I'll be gone for a couple of weeks but updating before I leave seemed like a good idea.

Dig in!

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

They stopped short when the massive form of the house stepped out of the dusk and fog that was rising from the water, mounting over the narrow strip of gravel shore.

Alaric was breathing hard, gasping for air, and yet not able to inhale properly, his lungs burning from exertion and lack of oxygen after running for almost forty minutes straight. He had a vague suspicion that they had shrunk to a size of peanuts as well. His hand was clutching Jenna's so tight that it probably hurt. None of them cared about minor details like that though.

_Klaus was here. Klaus was in the house. Klaus wanted to get Jenna and he came for her_. All that was spinning in his head on a crazy loop, driving him insane. And at the same time the idea was so big and so impossible to grasp that he simply couldn't wrap his mind around it, couldn't quite comprehend that it was real. If only because deep inside he still couldn't believe it was true, perhaps. Alaric kept telling himself that the witches and spirits were wrong, that Damon and the rest of the world were overreacting. They couldn't—they couldn't keep taking away what he loved the most. He could keep losing every battle.

God, he wished it was a joke, a dream, a figment of imagination. Anything! Except… except that he didn't leave anything for Jenna. As much as he wanted to give world to her… he surely didn't leave any flowers… that he could remember of.

His mind was working feverishly, darting between _What have I done?_ and _What do I do to fix it?_ They needed to get out of there, obviously, and go back to Mystic Falls. He needed to take her some place safe, and then—then he would probably be capable of thinking straight again seeing as to how it wasn't even an option at the moment. But he couldn't do it here, he couldn't protect her alone, and the realization echoed painfully inside of him.

The house looked dark and unwelcoming in the last rays of fading sunset that kept clinging to the horizon and coloring low clouds in pink and purple. They didn't leave any lights on, and now it was watching them hostilely with black empty sockets of windows. Not at all homey, not even a little. Instead, it had a heavy aura of a threat that made Alaric shift from foot to foot uneasily.

…It was a crimson red rose on a long stem, a striking contrast on a white pillowcase that Jenna spotted the moment she stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of peach-scented mist, wrapped in a soft towel. Curious, she padded across the room to pick it up, smiling, and breathed in sweet intoxicating scent, her fingers trying to avoid sharp, thick thorns.

Alaric was fiddling with the kitchen appliances downstairs as far as she could tell, and the smell of fresh coffee had filled the air already, and Jenna's smile grew fonder by the second as her mind wandered dreamily to him, to them, to the way he was making her feel like she was walking on clouds.

She meant to say thank you, but then they moved on to breakfast… and then they decided to skip breakfast in favor of something a lot more interesting… and the whole rose incident completely slipped her mind. Until now...

"It's quiet," Jenna said in a low voice.

"What?"

"I—I can't hear anything." She watched the house for a few moments, as if trying to see right through the walls. "Only us."

Which might have very well been a trap for all he knew, Alaric thought. Klaus could still be somewhere here, waiting, watching them back. The woods and wilderness all around them provided perfect cover. Klaus and God only knew who else, he reminded himself, flinching inwardly. For some reason Ric was quite certain the vampire had an endless supply of sidekicks – witches, vampires, maybe even werewolves. Whether willing or compelled was hard to say but the thought wasn't soothing, exactly. There was hardly a limit to what some would do to save their own lives, especially out of wish _not_ to get on the bad side of Klaus.

He scanned the area once again, peering into the bluish twilight so intensely that his eyes hurt as a tight knot of fear coiled and rolled in his stomach, making him feel like his insides were wrapped in barb wire. Nothing seemed to be out of ordinary, only the trees swayed lightly in the evening breeze and the splash of water was the only sound breaking the silence. And for some reason this deceiving normality was even worse than a mob of bloodthirsty vampires.

"Come on," he pulled Jenna towards the front of the house where they had left the car the previous day.

The keys were somewhere in the house but Alaric had no intention of going inside. Or let Jenna anywhere near it for that matter. Thankfully, he had a spare set hidden under the hood. Not that the thought of having to flee from mentally unstable centuries old vampire ever occurred to him but at least the years of paranoid fear and always being ready to set off and run were finally paying off.

The gravel was crunching beneath their feet, as their breaths, hard and forced, were puffing out in small white clouds. "Get in," he ushered Jenna towards the passenger door.

"Ric—" she caught him by the sleeve.

Alaric paused and attempted to smooth a worried frown on his face.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." He flashed a small smile at her which he knew she didn't really buy and then cupped her cheek with his hand for a moment trying to look past the fear in her eyes. "I promise. Now get in the car."

She nodded curtly and let go off his jacket, and Alaric immediately rushed to retrieve the keys. He crouched near the front bumper and groped the insides of the engine or whatever, and all but heaved a sigh of relief when his hand closed around several pieces of cool metal. On the days like that he didn't trust his luck that much, if at all. In other words, had he not found the keys now, he wouldn't be merely surprised. For one reason or the other, things tended to fall apart in bunches, as if getting the taste of chaos and choosing to revel in it.

He hopped into the driver's seat, only realizing that his hands were shaking when it took him almost half a minute to put the key in the ignition. It was weird how the time seemed to slow down drastically, and regardless of how fast he tried to move, it felt like he was making this way through some thick goo, as if the air suddenly hardened and solidified around them. Kind of like in a dream when you were trying to run but your body didn't seem to belong to you at all. Except that it wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare of their reality.

He threw a quick look at Jenna who kept turning her head left and right trying to see something outside and the turned the key—

And nothing happened. Alaric frowned and tried again. And again. And again. Not a thing. Not a sound from under the hood. The dashboard didn't come to life either.

The car remained dead.

"What the—" he muttered under his breath, feeling sick with fear.

Jenna switched her attention to him. "What is it?"

"Stay here. And call Damon." He tossed his cell phone to her and stumbled out, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Because, naturally, this couldn't have happened any other time.

He yanked open the hood and stared dumbly at the assembly of wires, tubes and things he couldn't quite name. Alaric knew a thing or two about engines, could fix minor damage and all… when he knew what the problem was. Now… with everything that was going on and his head ready to explode any moment… his mind was just black. Flat line.

The door opened again – a blast of a sound in the stillness – and the string of Jenna's footsteps shuffled the gravel.

"It's not working."

Alaric snapped his head up seeing as to how staring at the engine wasn't really helping. "What's not working?" Not that he had any idea what to do with the car anyway. In the dark. Without his magical repair kit.

"The phone, Ric. It's not working." She stopped beside him and shook his Nokia, pressed some buttons again and then looked up at him. "There is no signal."

He froze. _You've gotta be kidding me!_ Did the satellite fall from the sky or it started to snow the outer space? How could there be no signal?

Hastily, Jenna fished her own phone out of the pocket of her jeans, checked it and then shook her head, her face thoughtful and concentrated in the pale light of the phone screen.

"Okay, okay," Alaric muttered, trying to pull his thoughts back together. Things should have really stopped getting from bad to worse in a span of a few seconds, thank you!

The sun was gone by now leaving only a thin purple strip at the horizon. The house was looming over them, dark and terrifying. The car wouldn't start. And their cell phones were completely useless. If anything, it was a perfect definition of screwed, and Alaric didn't like where it was all going for more reasons than he could count.

And it was so, so quiet…

"There's a phone in the house," Jenna said if a little uncertainly.

Which he knew, of course, but—

Alaric looked down at his cell that still wasn't showing any signs of life in terms of connection, and then up at the house again. Woods were closing in on them, the shadows getting deeper by the moment, and every gust of wind and rustle of leaves were giving his heart uneasy leaps, making it plummet down to his stomach as he expected something big and bad and hungry to jump out at them. The fog rising from the lake was getting thicker, too. It crawled along the ground, clinging to the grass and stones, looking very much like a set up for a horror movie with a bad ending.

He didn't want to go inside. It could be a trap, and at this point he tried not to think much of what could be waiting for them in there. But here, in the open, they were so much more vulnerable, basically a step away from actually wearing _Eat me_ signs. It was getting cold, too.

Which meant they didn't really have a choice. Unless they chose to wander off into nowhere… He stopped the train of his thought there.

Alaric ran his hand through his hair, hesitating. "Right," he murmured in a moment or two. "Right, we should…" _Get the hell out of here_. _By teleportation. Screw the car, screw telephones. Run. _He wished it was that simple. "There are stakes in the trunk-" he murmured, slamming the hood down again as Jenna rushed towards the rear end of his Chevrolet.

He heard the click of the lock and the creak of the hinges – he was meaning to oil them a while ago but in the light of recent events that included having the woman he loved turned into a vampire it somehow slipped his mind, unsurprisingly – as she pulled the door open.

"Um, Ric?" Jenna called out somewhat hesitantly. "I think we have a problem."

_No kidding? _

He lunged to her through the thick, damp fog that seemed to go right through his skin and reach his bones, making him shiver all over as if a thin crust of ice was covering him from the inside. He skidded to a halt beside her and gawked in utter disbelief at a half-empty bottle of water and some junk he couldn't quite define in near complete darkness. The picture made him feel cold for the reasons that had nothing to do with the weather and nauseous.

"Oh crap," he breathed out.

"Don't get me wrong, but… shouldn't it be, like, a little more—_occupied_?" Jenna echoed.

No stakes. No crossbows. And that compressed air gun he kept stashed in the back? Yep, gone. In fact, there was nothing useful left, not even these two flashlights that he was sure were there only days ago. As for the old screwdriver – they might have as well gone against Klaus with a pack of toothpicks.

Which was funny in a way, if only because by this time Alaric started to believe that they had already hit the _"screwed up"_ bottom. Apparently, someone had just tossed them a shovel.

* * *

><p>"<em>The number is currently out of service. Please, call back later<em>."

Damon glared down at his phone as if both World War II and Oprah were its fault, the crease between his brows deepening by the moment. He had heard the message fifteen times already. The first time – he was surprised. The second – annoyed. The fifth – he gave up and swore to stop bothering. After the tenth, however, he decided to stop pretending and ignoring sickening worry that settled deep inside of him and was gnawing on him for the last two hours, and for one reason or another he couldn't just brush it off.

He turned when he heard the footsteps behind his back – Stefan, seeing as to how he could easily pick up his brother's pace after all these years – and then reached for a round bottle of bourbon to pour some more into his tumbler.

"With the two of us – and Caroline – using _my_ blood stash, it is thinning out faster than before." Damon took a sip of his drink and let it travel down his throat, waiting for the familiar warmth to spread over him. "Feel like paying a late night visit to the blood bank? Unless, of course, you insist it must be a pet shop instead."

Stefan stopped a few steps away from him, arms folded on the chest. He shrugged and pretty much ignored the quip. "Have you heard from Katherine?"

Damon paused, his lips curving into a humorless smirk. "No goodbye note or the address where we should forward her Elle catalogues, if that's what you're asking about. Why?"

Stefan shrugged again. "Because she's Katherine, and whatever she is up to, it is better to keep an eye on her before it backfires. I thought she'd contact us – you or me, I don't know, once she was no use to Klaus. Which she isn't, since Alaric's loft remained empty for the last three days."

"Well, no offence to Ric, by his bachelor's pad is hardly living up to Klaus's expectations. No wonder he moved out. And Katherine, if she is not an idiot – and she is not – should be on the way to Aruba by now. Hence her absence."

"You think she'd actually left?"

Damon considered his question as his glance wandered around the room and then stopped at the crooked tree outside tall patio doors. That was exactly what he desperately wanted to know an answer to. The question he was asking himself for longer than he was willing to admit. For so long, in fact, that it almost stopped making sense, what with him longing for the answer he _wanted_ to hear. Not that she was going to grant his wish. It wasn't Katherine's style to begin with. He couldn't think about it now, not with the list of other things to worry about that was growing steadily with every passing day.

"I don't know, little bro. Depends on her survival reflexes. Like I said, it'd be stupid not to. Then again, Katherine can wiggle out of anything so I don't see how it could stop her. Never worked before. Let's wait for someone to step on her toes again and see how she will come begging for help. Again. Or whatever." He paused, brows drawn together thoughtfully. "In fact, I am looking forward to it. I have a nice stake waiting for her that would look good in her heart. Assuming Katherine has one, of course."

Slowly, Stefan nodded. "It bothers me that we hadn't heard from Klaus in a while, either."

Damon's frown deepened. "You think she's with him?"

"I know that there are ways to compel a vampire, and Originals are rather crafty in that department. I know that Katherine is good at being Elena if and when she or someone else needs it. And I know – or at the very least suspect – that she would've made a show of her departure."

Damn it, Damon cursed in his mind. He hated it. He hated it when Stefan was right, but in this case he was, and right now he was voicing all of the worries that he kept trying to push back and the hell out of his mind. His eyes flickered towards his cell phone that was lying on the cart now by the line of bottles. It remained silent, and it was getting really, really frightening.

"You suggest we go and look for her?" He asked Stefan.

"No, I suggest we keep our eyes open." Stefan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

It was weird, Damon noted. His brother hadn't changed a bit in the last 145 year. Hadn't aged a minute. Yet he had all these years on him now, this tiredness emanating from him, real and tangible, and he wondered if maybe he was seeing himself in Stefan, if maybe his brother was a mirror he refused to face because god help him, he did feel a century and a half old, too.

"Where's Elena?" He asked to change the subject, or maybe to fill the silence.

"At Bonnie's. With Jeremy and Caroline. They try to figure out some tracking spell that doesn't involve using something that belonged to Klaus since the only thing we have is that stake that he used to kill Jenna, and so far Alaric is oddly attached to it—"

"As in – desperately wanting to stick it into Klaus's heart?"

"Pretty much," Stefan admitted. "Anyway, they are trying... well, _Bonnie_ tries to come up with something else, and seeing as to how her house is the only place that no vampire has access to, we decided it wasn't a bad idea for them to stay there for a while."

Damon conceded his point with a nod. "You do realize that the witch can be wrong, don't you? About this whole Klaus thing. She was wrong before."

"When?" Stefan snickered.

"Um…" Damon hesitated, raking his brain. "Well, remember… That time when—Oh, okay," he rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she was, I just—" _don't want her to be right_. He waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever. She's right. We're screwed. What else is new?"

Stefan watched him speculatively for a few moments, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's going on, Damon?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You look like you're going to explode, like, five minutes ago. And you don't do that without a reason. Come on, spill, what is it?"

_Oh, where so I start? _

"Ric is not picking up his phone," he said at last, finally letting his mind wrap around the idea that something was really, really wrong.

Dead battery, poor reception – he thought of them, too, and he knew that the possibilities were endless. Alaric could have dropped the phone in the damned lake, for crying out loud! But Damon dismissed them all, and as the expression of Stefan's face changed from misunderstanding to confused to _Please, tell me it's not what I think it is_, he knew that his brother dismissed them as well. There was something else, something nagging at him. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Sixth sense if you please.

Not even voice mail. Nothing. It was like Alaric and Jenna got sucked into a Twilight Zone.

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><p>The house was quiet and still, and the scent of the morning coffee and toasts was still lingering in the air. <em>Gotta fix that<em>, Jenna thought absently when the floorboard creaked beneath Alaric's foot the moment he stepped over the threshold, and the darkness closed around them, swallowing them completely. She strained her senses, struggling to pick up any sound her ears could catch. The wind was whistling in the chimney. She was pretty sure the window in the attic was still open and the draft was playing with the stack of old newspapers she knew she'd have to dispose of somehow once she got her hands on them… again.

She'd ventured there earlier in the day, both curious and determined to go on with the cleaning mission at last. The bright side of being immortal, by the looks of it, was never considering the time spent on cleaning "wasted' anymore. It proved to be a much harder task than she'd anticipated though, and eventually she ended up being buried in the piles of junk collected and neatly stored by several generations of the Gilberts. Junk she wasn't sure she had any right to do anything with without permission from actual Gilberts who, she was certain, couldn't care less about all of that. Vicious circle. Stacks of magazines, old toys and clothes, books and antique reading lamp that was most likely older than Jenna and that she knew wasn't working for just as long – they were all going to stay up there untouched until the end of time.

Her ears perked at the sound of the old house creaking and breathing and living a life of its own, and her fingers flexed on Alaric's hand as she attuned to the beating of his heart, a sure, steady rhyme in the periphery of her mind that assured her that he was okay.

Alaric reached out and flipped the switch on the wall. The corridor remained dark.

"What else is new?" He let out in a whoosh of breath.

His first and primary instinct was the turn around and get out of there immediately. It was so, so wrong; he could almost feel it with his skin. But they needed something – anything – as a weapon. Even a kitchen knife would suffice for distraction, perhaps. Anything…

Another step. Another creak of old floorboards. Past the natural sounds he already got used it, it was really quiet. Or maybe it was the blood rush in his ears that was making him deaf to the rest of the word. He was so tense that his muscles ached as if filled with millions of tiny needles piercing right through him, but it was minor inconvenience compared to what his vivid imagination was offering him for a possible scenario of further events.

It was a trap. It felt like a trap. And at some point he began to fear he'd simply suffocate in the dark when the walls started closing in on them and each and every shadow looked like a monster waiting to sink its teeth into their flesh, but he shook it off dismissively, taking one deliberately slow breath after another and forcing his overheated mind to slow down its crazy race. It wasn't the right time for a panic attack. No one was watching them from the corners with hungry glowing eyes. Or at least he wanted to believe that.

Once they reached the living room, Jenna slipped her hand out of his and grabbed the cordless phone lying on the counter that separated the lounge from the kitchen area. It was not that dark in here, not as much as in the hall, and Alaric watched the dark outline of her form among the black and grey shapes around them.

"It's dead," Jenna whispered putting the phone back down, not quite surprised but… disappointed.

Not that Alaric was surprised either but that pang of worry stung a little too hard and he clenched his teeth to stop them from chattering. He reached for another switch and flicked it up, and then down, more out of reflex than actually hoping for anything. Maybe it was just circuit. Wait, what if it was just a circuit? What if he went to the basement and fixed it… and probably never came back. Yeah. That's how plans like that were bound to end in his reality.

"Same here," he shook his head when he caught Jenna looking his way. "We should—" he started, but was cut off when the door they came in through slammed with a thunderous bang that shoot through the house and made the glass rattle in the windows.

Jenna whirled around and stepped closer to Ric, both of them barely breathing as they waited and listened.

"Just the wind," she murmured a few heartbeats later, her eyes remaining glued to the door. "We didn't close it, so it…" she trailed off.

Alaric released a heavy breath after a moment or two. "Yeah… let's just—come on." He swallowed uneasily. "We should lock the doors and windows."

Jenna nodded and started towards the sliding glass doors leading towards the back deck. "I thought you said anyone could come in here without an invitation," she said, giving Alaric a quick look over her shoulder.

"Well, yes, but why help them stay unnoticed?" He let a fleeting smile cross his face. Jenna's face was nothing but a pale spot in the dark but he was sure her lips curved as well.

With his eyes finally adjusted, Alaric headed towards the front door, always keeping Jenna in his peripheral view. She was right – if anyone wanted to come in, human or vampire, it would hardly be a mere inconvenience but hardly an obstacle. Even for him picking a lock like that was like a joke. The vampire would most likely not even notice the door at all. But he was not going to offer them a welcome mat either.

"You know, it wasn't exactly when I had in mind when I said we should spend some time alone," he chuckled ruefully, returning back to the living room/dining room/kitchen.

"Really?" Jenna checked the lock on the living room window and turned to him again. "Well, that's a relief. Because, you know, if you said that it was the general idea," she swept the room with a pointed glance, "I would have to reconsider some aspects of our relationship."

Alaric crossed the kitchen in two big strides and checked the bolts on both windows. Twice. He peered outside for a few long moments, his heart thudding dully against his ribs making everything inside of him vibrate with uneasiness and anticipation. The darkness was deepening, he could barely see a thing past the tree line thirty feet away from the house. A thin semi-circle of the moon crescent was hanging low above the pines and oaks, not giving nearly enough light. Everything was still, even the trees stopped swaying in the breeze.

The fog was a thick, knee-deep blanket on the ground, and he managed to catch a faint sound of splashing water as the waves kept rolling on the shore but it was dulled and somewhat distanced as if it was merely an echo with the source miles and miles away. Right now, it felt like they were completely cut from the rest of the world, only two of them against the whole universe.

"Thanks for the tip," he said, turning around. Jenna was standing right there, leaning against the counter, her arms folded in the chest and one of her eyebrows arched. The tightness inside of him loosened a little. "But you just totally ruined my perfect Christmas surprise."

"I'll keep it in mind," she let out a soft laugh.

Alaric approached her and leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter on both sides of her hips, trapping Jenna between himself and the plastic surface, his eyes searching her face for a few moments. He let out a long sigh.

"I'm so sorry for this mess, Jenna."

"You're sorry?" Her lips formed into a bitter half smile that bore no trace of humor at all. "Last time I checked, the crazy murderous vapm was after me, not you, Ric. So much for normality these days, huh?" She made a funny face.

"It will be fine," Alaric whispered, grazing his lips against her temple as he breathed in gentle scent of her skin. "I swear to god, everything is going to be okay." He trailed his way towards her mouth with a feather light kisses before capturing her lips with his for a long soft kiss, desperate to sooth away her fears. "I will never let anyone take you away from me, not again. Do you believe me?"

Jenna nodded, and then huffed with frustration. She covered his hand with hers, her thumb running absently along his knuckles. "He is so dead for taking all of that away from me."

Alaric half-chuckled half-snorted, tickling her cheek with his breath. "We really should do something about these violence issues of yours, you know?"

"Like what?"

He puckered his lips, considering, before suggesting, "Well, say, you tell me all of your ideas… and I will do my best to make them come true."

Which made Jenna laugh. "Only my ideas about Klaus?" Her brow quirked up, eyes glinting mischievously. "Because I have—" she cut off suddenly, and stiffened, frowning.

Was it—? The gravel on the driveway outside shifted and rolled, small stones hitting and bumping each other, as if—as if under someone's feet. Jenna caught her breath, her hand flexed instinctively on Alaric's holding on to it tight.

He went completely rigid besides her, his eyes following her gaze that was now locked on the darkness outside the window. "What is it?"

Silence. She counted to ten in her mind and then let out the breath she didn't even notice she was holding. Her heart was beating and fluttering like crazy in her throat.

_One, two, three, four…_ Jenna relaxed a little and shook her head.

"Nothing. It's nothing, Ric. I thought—" She looked up and gave him a small funny smile. "Happens all the time these days. A mosquito flies by and it sounds like a blast." She let out a shaky, nervous laugh and ran her hand through her hair. "Maybe it was a squirrel that sneezed somewhere in the woods, and I just…" Jenna bumped her forehead into his chest.

Alaric ran his hands up and down her arms, the touch of his hands making her skin tingle even through the clothes. His lips brushed against her hair. She could feel the stiffness leaving his body. If only they could throw this whole creepy incident out the window and pretend that the power problems had something to do with the weather and that their phones were not working because they were stranded in the middle of nowhere, which wasn't that far from the truth-

A high pitched shrill of the landline phone gave them both a start.

"I thought you said it was dead," Alaric said warily as they both started at it as if it was an alien space ship that landed right in the middle of the question.

"It was," Jenna's brows drew together. Hesitantly, she reached for it. "Hello?" Her eyes went up to Ric who watched her expectedly. Silence. "Hello? Elena?" Not even static.

She hung up, then immediately pressed the button to check the connection again. Because if the phone was working, and they could call—

No signal. Nothing at all.

And then it started to ring again.

Jenna put it back of the counter hastily and jerked her hand away as if it was a poisonous spider or something that could burn or sting her. The phone was ringing, piercing dead silence and making her blood run cold in her veins. She sensed the warmth of Alaric's body with her back, and the contrast made her shiver. None of them seemed to be able to move.

Half a minute ticked by. The phone went silent for several seconds that seemed to last forever, and then came to life again, unnaturally loud and somewhat demanding, as if threatening them for not picking it up – as far as inanimate object went in expressing any kind of emotions. Instinctively, Jenna almost reached for it again – _what if it was Elena? What if it was Jeremy? What if something happened and she was doing nothing but staring at it when they were in trouble?_ – but then just curled her fingers into her palm, noting absently that Ric's heart was running and thousand miles per second now.

"I don't think it's Elena," Alaric whispered, stating the obvious. Or at the very least most probable obvious. His arm snaked protectively around Jenna's waist as he held her back, fighting the wish to grab the damned thing and smash it against the wall.

It stopped again in a little while, which for some reason was even worse. Three seconds, five, ten, fifteen… Alaric counted in his head, feeling like his skull was going to explode any moment from this pressing silence hanging around them.

"Come on, let's go get weapons," _in case they are still there. And then we can venture into the woods and play hide-and-seek seeing as to how without the car we can't exactly get out of here anyway. Other ideas?_ He ushered Jenna towards the staircase throwing uneasy looks over his shoulder, as if half expecting the silent phone to start ringing again… or maybe explode, or so something else just as exciting.

"Still nothing," Jenna checked her cell phone as they climbed the stairs hurriedly.

Once they reached the second floor landing, Alaric flipped the switch automatically – or maybe it was a never-dying hope because, really, if the situation couldn't possible get any worse, it was suppose to start getting better, and he honestly expected for the "better" to down on them any moment. But the corridor remained dark.

The phone downstairs started ringing again, making them both pause for a few moments. None of them commented on it, however, choosing to promptly ignore the fact, regardless of how each new shrill was making them all but jump and flinch on the inside. Jenna's finger brushed against his hand when a gust of cold air ran through the corridor, her mind drifting to that open window somewhere in the depths of the house.

"It's gone," she said quietly pausing in the doorway to the guest bedroom.

"What?" Alaric looked inside over her shoulder. He couldn't see much past the outlines of the furniture. It looked… normal, as far as normal went these days.

"The rose." Jenna stepped inside cautiously, her hand on the doorframe, and stopped. "I'm sure I left it on the nightstand." She turned to him, her voice helpless, and rubbed uncertainly at her forehead. "It—it was there."

"Don't let him do this to you. Don't let him mess with your head." Alaric's throat tightened. Thinking that Klaus was in the house with them – in the same room, for god's sake! – made him feel sick.

"It was there," she repeated.

"Of course it was." _And then the bloody bastard decided to screw with your brain_, he added in his mind, as hot uncontrolled fury started to bubble up inside of him. As if he didn't already have a long and growing list of reasons to rip Klaus to pieces with his bare hands.

The Gilberts' stash was right where they'd left it a few hours ago. Alaric half-feared, half-expected to find it gone. Hell, he was almost certain they'd find the whole place sealed and boarded for good measure. Much to his surprise, the secret compartment remained intact except that it was jet black on the inside and even with his eyes adjusted to the bluish darkness of the house, he couldn't make out a thing. Yet, a relieved breath escaped his chest when his hand brushed against the rough shelves and came across the scatter of wooden bullets in one of the boxes.

"Wish they stored some flashlights," he murmured, studying the collection in the ghostly light of the small screen of his useless phone.

"Weird they didn't store some torches," Jenna echoed thoughtfully. "You know, to support the atmosphere."

His lips quirked for a moment.

"Um, hold this for me."

Alaric passed his phone down to her and reached for one of the crossbows hanging on the wall. The weight of it in his hands made him feel considerably better by the second, his fingers closing familiarly around the handles and triggers, and he flexed them, adjusting. He checked the aiming, grabbed a couple of spare thin stakes to reload the crossbow had it come to actual shooting as his insides fluttered with adrenaline rush.

"I believe they didn't exactly expect something like that to come," he responded, putting the crossbow down, and offered Jenna a small smile.

"You know, there are candles in the kitchen. I could—"

"No, it's okay," he reassured her.

A few boxes of wooden bullets were absolutely useless because he didn't find anything to fire them with. Alaric checked the supplies twice, groping his way along each and every self, but there were no guns, and he couldn't remember if he saw any the first time around. He watched Jenna out of the corner of his eye for several moments, considering, but then let out a resigned sigh and handed her two roughly crafted stakes that looked dangerously sharp.

"Here, take these." Ric handed them to her. Her expression was puzzled when she turned and saw what he was offering. "Hold one, and keep another close at hand, okay?" As much as he hated the idea of her being anywhere close to actual bad stuff, he wasn't that much of an idiot to leave her completely defenseless.

"Don't they have another one of those?" She nodded at his crossbow and scanned the room, her voice filled with very nervous and very fake excitement.

"I'm serious, Jenna." Alaric caught her eyes again, hating himself for having to put her in this situation at all. Her amusement faded at the sight of solemnity and some finality on his face. "Whatever happens, I want you to stay back. I want you to stay out of the way and let me deal with it."

"You can't—" Her voice quivered and broke a little. "How can you ask something like that?"

"Because I can't let anything happen to you." His own voice dropped and became thick and hoarse. It felt like the air was sucked out of the room, leaving only tension and sparkles for them to operate on. "And I won't."

"And what if something happen to you?"

She was scared, and she finally let it come to the surface and sweep her off of her feet, if only that iron tight white-knuckled grip on the stake was any indication. And much to his dismay, Alaric didn't have any words of reassurance. He didn't have an answer to her question, seeing as to how _We would most likely die, both of us_ wasn't really an option.

"Hey, I am supposed to be a knight in shining armor, remember?" He smiled softly, trying to keep his voice as reassuring as it would go. "Let the guy indulge himself." Not convincing, yeah. She was just watching him with her huge eyes, making him die over and over again on the inside. "I mean it, Jenna. I want you to stay back. If anything happens, I want you to run the moment you get a chance. I want you to run and never look back."

She felt trapped. "You know that I can't promise that, right?"

No, he wasn't expecting her to do that. But at least he gave it a shot. "Can you at the very least promise not to jump into a fight?" She didn't respond. "I can't—I can't lose you again. I need to keep you safe for once."

"It is not about keeping the score, Ric," she whispered.

"No, it is about not letting Klaus win."

Jenna looked down at the piece of wood clutched in her hand for a moment. "Can I stake the phone?" She asked with hope. They knew it wasn't an answer either, but both chose to take it as a truce.

"Sure. We'll call it self-defense."

Downstairs, everything was quiet.

It bothered Alaric that they didn't have a plan and, basically, without a car or a phone all they could do was try to make it through the night. Not that the daylight was safe. Not anymore. But primitive instinct was pushing him to look for comfort in the rays of sun when darkness was hiding too much danger.

He glared angry daggers at the phone that lay silently in the kitchen. The weight and feel of a crossbow was making him feel a little more like a predator for once and a little less like a prey, even if it proved being utterly useless in the end.

Alaric paused at the base of the staircase. One deliberately slow breath after another, three heartbeats each. It helped his to stay focused, concentrated. The familiarity of it was reassuring – just like the fact that he knew he wouldn't miss another sound over this pattern. A few hours until sunrise. A drop in the ocean and an eternity at the same time. Slowly, he lowered the crossbow and let the overwhelming tension ease a little, letting go of his sore muscles at last. Just a few hours, right?

"You know, we could—" he cleared his throat and turned to look up at Jenna who stood two steps up. "We could start the fire—"

"Roast marshmallows. Tell ghost stories," she offered helpfully.

Alaric smirked. "Ghost stories? Really?"

"I don't think so."

Jenna snapped her head up. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" Ric looked around, confused, and then up at her again.

Her eyes grew big as she scanned the living room frantically, one hand gripping the stake and another clutching the railing so tight it was probably going to crack the wood any moment. Her heart plummeted down to her stomach as her breath hitched in her throat, threatening to choke her. Her eyes darted between one corner and another as she listened… listened so intensely that her hear started to throb.

"Hello, Jenna."

It was barely a whisper, a whiff of a sound, the voice that she would always recognize whether she wanted it or not. Of course Alaric couldn't hear it. Klaus didn't want him to.

Jenna swallowed hard, feeling dizzy.

"Ric," she mouthed soundlessly when her eyes fixed on the dark form right outside floor-to-ceiling glass patio doors, perfectly clear on the background of the moonlit sky. He was just standing there, looking inside the house, still and motionless, and the sight of him made her blood run ice-cold. His face was nothing but a black spot and even with her vampire vision she couldn't make out the details. But Jenna was certain he was smiling, the same ice-cold smile capable of cutting like a knife that she was seeing in her nightmares every night as hellfire burned in his eyes.

Alaric whipped around, crossbow up and his finger on the trigger.

Klaus was gone. He was no longer standing outside on the deck, and Jenna could see the moonlight dancing in the dark waters of the lake through the glass doors. She couldn't hear anything, not a single sound. But she could feel him. This uncontrolled, inexplicable, animal fear that was crawling all over her, making her flesh arise with goose bumps.

"Stay back," Ric whispered, a barely audible sound for him; an almost gunshot for her.

Jenna shifted the weight of the stake in her hand, flexing her fingers around it as she adjusted the hold for… for a strike if it came to this. Alaric's heart was pounding so hard that she could barely her hear own breath past it.

She didn't really notice how exactly they ended up in the corridor, except that it got darker around. Alaric still had the crossbow aimed at the patio doors even though everything remained still and quiet on the other side. It bothered her greatly that she couldn't hear Klaus. Not like she felt humans. Of course he didn't have to breathe at all if he didn't want to, and god knew he could move like a cat. But it was making her think of him a fleshless ghost, which was so much scarier than anything else.

And it was then that the door knob started to turn behind her back.

Jenna whirled around, rising her hand with the stake up, her eyes glued to the wiggling piece of metal. Alaric was instantly before her, placing himself between her and the door as he sidestepped Jenna neatly away and into the corner, out of the way of whatever could come through.

"Run," he mouthed, knowing that she could hear him even if he couldn't hear himself. "Whenever you get the chance – run."

Except that she knew that she wouldn't.

A loud crack broke the silence when whoever was on the other side applied enough force to break the lock. Alaric tensed, going completely still and barely breathing at this point, his hands shaking slightly with strain. He took another step back when the door started to open slowly, revealing dark outline of a tall lanky figure on the other side.

_You are not going to get her. You're not going to hurt her ever again_.

And then he pulled the trigger…

**To be continued… **

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading! Reviews, comments and opinions are always appreciated :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** Look who is BAAAACK! No, I'm not dead. Sadly, I was carried away by some real life stuff that wasn't nearly as interesting as writing, but that required some attention on my part. Also, I couldn't write Jenna properly after meeting Sara Canning coz I was mixing the images of Sara and Jenna in my head :P

Can't believe the last time I updated was before Ring*Con. I will try to make it a more regular thing from now on, as much as I can :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

"Well, well, well, now what have we here?" A taunting voice broke the silence.

There was a blur of a motion before Jenna's eyes then, followed by sickening cracking sound that broke the silence and deafened her instantly like a peal of thunder rolling across clear blue sky. She knew what it was. She knew it could mean one thing, and one thing only, but her mind refused to accept and absorb it.

For a very long moment, the time had stopped.

There was a long piercing blood-chilling scream that Jenna had registered somewhat absently in the back of her mind, and it took her forever to realize that it was coming from her, seemingly ripping her apart.

_No! God, no, no, no, it couldn't be happening! NO! _

She was vaguely aware of being gripped by the elbow and dragged across the room until her back hit the mantelpiece above the cold fireplace, making framed family photos on top of it topple over and fall to the floor, scattering shattered glass all over hardwood boards at their feet.

Her eyes, however, had been glued to Alaric lying in a deformed heap on the floor in the hallway, his neck twisted unnaturally and his eyes staring sightless at the dark ceiling. His fingers let go of the crossbow, and it slid a few feet away from him hitting the wall. At the same time, the world around her lacked the most important sound in Jenna's life – his heart was no longer beating even though her mind kept searching for it with desperate hope and need. The only sound she could hear was her forced breath.

Klaus killed him. Klaus killed Ric.

The thought settle in, and Jenna let out a low uncontrolled whimper. Her vision blurred as burning tears flooded her eyes and started streaming down her cheeks, so hot it almost hurt. Everything inside of her was mere seconds from exploding.

Klaus did not give her a chance to dwell on it, however, because suddenly his fingers were on Jenna's chin forcing her to turn and look at him, digging deeply into the gentle skin, and before she knew it, she found herself staring into his ice-cold eyes, captivated and almost hypnotized. Even in the darkened room they practically glowed, and by the second she wasn't quite sure she'd be able to look away even if she wasn't at risk of breaking her jaw if she tried. That was probably how the rabbits felt looking into the snake's eyes, she thought a little distractedly. A step away from being swallowed whole.

"You… you…"

"Nice to see you again, Jenna," Klaus whispered softly, and chill trickled down her spine at the sound of it, making Jenna freeze and catch her breath instinctively as if not breathing could help her stay unnoticed altogether.

She watched him study her face closely, his eyes wandering around her features with curiosity and what she couldn't interpret as anything other than apprehension. He seemed to be measuring her for something or another. His lips formed into a small half-smile, a contemplative one, and she refused to even go into guessing what he could be having on his mind.

He killed Alaric, and the thought sent a wave of boiling rage through her body, so overwhelming that the world turned red around the two of them. She could feel it course inside of her, like white-hot lava in her veins, making it hard to think, to breath. There was only animal instinct in her to lash out at him, to find a way to cause him as much pain as he caused her, to scream and claw at him. The beast was fighting to break free. And she liked it.

Which didn't change the fact that she was scared to the level beyond imaginable. It wasn't just that she knew who he was – the Original vampire, the baddest of the bad, the one that turned her because it was convenient, the one that drained Alaric's body of blood to possess him just for the hell of it. The list could go on and on and on. Just knowing it didn't really matter, though. There was something about him, a vibe if you please, that was making her insides coil, making the darkness arise, dimming and dulling the conscious part. Just standing there beside him made her want to crawl into the deepest pit, curl into a ball and pray to never be found again.

Jenna never let herself truly ponder it, but deep down she knew that it was exactly how one would feel around the creature without a soul.

She swallowed uneasily trying to ignore the mantelpiece that was digging painfully into her shoulder blade. She wanted to look furious and outraged, she wanted to spit every word of hatred in Klaus's face. Not because she thought he actually cared but simply because it was building up inside of her for so long that she just couldn't keep it locked away any longer. Like a volcano about to erupt any moment, and by this point she didn't care about the consequences. Instead, it was more about what would happen if she didn't do it.

But when she opened her mouth, her lower lip trembled, and no sound came out.

The corner of Klaus's lips tugged up slightly as if he sensed absolutely everything that was going on with her. Sensed and sipped it in as though gaining his own strength from Jenna's fear and helplessness. He knew he had power over her, and he was enjoying every ounce of it.

"And now that I have your full attention," he drawled after a few painfully long seconds, "I believe we can talk." His voice was almost gentle, both somewhat reproaching and sympathetic, like he was trying to talk sense into a naughty child. Oddly, it sounded a lot more frightening than if he'd started shouting at her.

Jenna's first impulse was to back away from him as she desperately wished to put as much distance between them as possible in given circumstances, almost half hoping to go right through the wall behind her back, if only to escape these eyes, this… monster. What did he want from her? She tried to force herself to break eye contact, to look past Klaus's shoulder and make sure that what she thought she was wasn't real, that Alaric wasn't dead. But the vampire's grip was strong enough the crash her bones, and she was too terrified to disobey.

Klaus lifted her chin higher, making sure her eyes were locked with his.

"Tell me," he started, pretty much ignoring her tears, confusion and the fact that he had snapped someone's neck not two minutes ago, leaving that someone lie a few feet away from them. Like it wasn't a big deal. In fact, he seemed to be completely comfortable with all of the above. "How did you survive?"

_How did I—?_

Jenna's brows drew together. "What?" She mouthed, not sure she had heard him right, what with her head spinning and her mind balancing on the verge of insanity.

Klaus's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharpening and piercing pierce right through her to rip her apart.

"The ritual," he hissed through his teeth as his grip on her elbow tightened, making her suspect he wanted to break her bones. She wouldn't put it past him. Not at all. "How did you make it out alive?"

There was genuine curiosity behind his question, Jenna realized. An honest to blood confusion because there hardly were any things left in the world that were new and unfamiliar to someone who lived through most of the known history, who had seen and knew more than any human ever could. And yet, there was urgency to his question too, an edge that made Jenna curious back – what on earth was there to make a centuries old vampire anxious? He seemed almost… vulnerable in this unknowing. And her head was spinning with questions and possibilities.

Not that she actually cared or anything.

"Go to hell," she choked out, glaring daggers at him with more determination and resolve than she was feeling. Whatever he wanted from her, hell if she was going to help him get it.

For a moment, Jenna thought he was going to kill her right there and then, obviously not used to being talked to like that. But a few seconds had passed – her last few seconds, she was sure, counted down by her hectic heartbeat – but suddenly his mouth twitched and his eyes lit up with amusement and, god help her, admiration. Almost. As far as admiration went when it came to a predator and his prey. It looked like he was impressed by her sudden bravery. Or foolishness. Or both. Which was basically the first expression of emotion beyond – _you get me pissed, I get you killed_ – she had ever seen from him in a long run.

Jenna stiffened and sucked in her breath, not sure what to make of it, her eyes boring into him with enough intensity to turn him into a pile of ashes, had it been possible.

"Been there," Klaus assure her with a smirk, his hold on her elbow growing so strong that she nearly cried out. Instead, Jenna bit on her bottom lip not to give him that satisfaction until she could feel the taste of blood in her mouth. "So, you want to make it a hard way then?" He supposed, one of his eyebrows arching quizzically and almost elegantly. Damn the bastard, he had style. "Your boyfriend there would disagree perhaps," he nodded vaguely towards Alaric's body, making everything inside of her clench and coil, sweeping away the last traces of her semi-conscious thoughts. "But then again, he doesn't have a say here anymore. The remaining members of your precious family, though—"

Klaus let the end of the phrase hang in the air for Jenna to finish it in her mind with whatever scenarios her vivid imagination would offer. To let it fully sink in. And much to the said imagination's credit, it was quick and helpful as always, making her blood run cold as a string of images flashed before her mind's eye.

He caught the precise moment when it happened, and his lips stretched into a satisfied smile. "Good, now we're on the same page. Let's start from the beginning, sweetheart. And don't make me count to three, ripping off your pretty little fingers. I'm sure you might need them in the future. Maybe." A theatrical pause followed. "So, how did you survive?"

"I don't know," Jenna croaked, her throat suddenly too dry to produce any other sound.

Klaus gave himself some time to study her, as if trying to read her features.

"I don't know," she repeated as dark dread settled in the pit of her stomach. It was the only thing, the only truth she could offer, but by the look on his face she knew that it wasn't enough.

It was a no-win situation. He didn't trust her. And why would he? He wouldn't believe anything she could say, even if she did know something. He'd need a proof. He'd need facts. He'd drag her to hell and back until he had them all. But she knew nothing.

Klaus flexed his fingers, and Jenna let out a high-pitched shriek when her elbow exploded as the bones cracked and broke, piercing her muscles and soft tissues on the inside. Her eyes filled with tears she couldn't hold back. The pain was like a sucker punch that somehow knocked all air out of her lungs and she ended up gasping for breath, unable to make a proper one. Her knees buckled a little, and she would have collapsed to the floor if it wasn't for Klaus who kept holding her in the upright position pressed firmly against the mantelpiece, seemingly not noticing anything unusual. He didn't even seem to know he had just crashed her elbow into nothing. Then again, maybe he wanted to break her shoulder blades, too. If yes, then the mantelpiece was doing a damn good job in that department.

"I don't know!" Jenna all but shouted in his face, hating the tears that kept streaming down her cheeks, hating being weak, and vulnerable, and all sorts of horrified, and knowing that he knew it, too.

Why couldn't she just pass out or something? God knew, she was half a step away from it, what with that pain that was making her want to scream and climb walls. Except that, of course, it was too good to actually happen. Instead, she had to clench her teeth so tight she feared they would grind into dust as white spots started dancing before her eyes, her head spinning and her stomach rolling heavily. She was nauseous and dizzy, and scared to the point when it was making her physically sick. And she wanted it all to end.

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking one cautious breath after another, willing the walls to stop spinning around her like a carousel.

"Let's try this again," Klaus suggested studying her, his face a cold mask of calculated indifference. "Which one of your limbs do you think you don't really need? Because, you know, the vampires can heal," he continued matter-of-factly, "but they can't grow a new arm or a leg. Or a head."

Jenna snapped her eyes open. "I don't know!" She half hissed, glowering at him through the veil of her tears. Bloody hell, it hurt so much! She had never had a broken bone before, and was extra grateful for it this very moment. "You were the one that killed me. Ask your witch how it works... Oh, wait!"

His face hardened. Whether he had any personal feelings for Greta or was she just another paw in his game, Jenna didn't know. Nor did she want to. Yet, knowing that she was the one to rip her throat out, knowing that she could rub it in his face – she couldn't help feeling evil satisfaction with this fact, however wrong and disturbing it was.

"You mean this little witch of yours didn't explain you the rules?" Klaus frowned skeptically, obviously dismissing the whole Greta situation.

Jenna said nothing as more and more questions popped into her mind. Did Bonnie know? Was she supposed to? Were they not telling her something again? Could she please go back to being twelve when her biggest concern was talking her parents into letting her and her friends have the house all for themselves for Jenna's birthday party? Before Miranda's death. Before the vampires. Before her life got so damn complicated. She had lost the battle back then, which was humiliating and felt like the end of the world. But now it was the kind of problem she'd gladly deal with instead of trying to piece together what was left of her life.

Meanwhile, Klaus let go of her elbow and pushed Jenna away hard enough for her to lose her balance and collapse down onto the hardwood floor, kind of forgetting about her by the second.

Hastily, Jenna scooted backwards, cradling her injured arm to her chest as she eyed him with a mixture of wary and resentment. Her mind was going from working high-speed as she fought to come up with a way to stay alive to turning completely numb from fear and pain when all she really wanted was for it to end one way or another so that she could just sleep for a thousand years.

The vampire spent a couple of minutes pacing before he stopped in front of Jenna again and peered sightlessly at the wall right above her head. She went completely still. His expression was thoughtful, and Jenna wondered distractedly whether she wanted to know what he was thinking about or would she prefer it to remain a mystery for the time being, if only for the sake of her own sanity.

The healing part was a definite benefit of being a vampire, she thought when the pain in the elbow started to dull as the bones and whatever began growing together again, until it was gone for good, no drugs needed. Still new to the whole range of things to be explored, she moved it carefully, half expecting another jolt of pain to rip through her body and throw her back over the edge. Much to her surprise, it didn't happen. Her broken bone was seemingly as good as new.

It hit her then. The ring. Alaric was still wearing the ring that could supposedly bring him back to life. Did Klaus know? Was there anything he didn't know? She tried to think straight. Supposedly, he didn't. But where would that leave them?

She refused to look his Alaric's way, though, torn between desperate need to know that he was alive – _would the ring work? What if it wouldn't? What if it had an expiration date? What if it couldn't work against an Original?_ – and fear that if he woke up now, Klaus would make sure to finish his work and kill him for real.

Klaus, however, had no intention to let her go through all possible nightmarish possibilities in her head. He snapped out of his thoughts, grabbed Jenna by the arm again and yanked her up to her feet, nearly dislocating her shoulder as he did so. And before she knew, his face was suddenly barely an inch away from hers. In a blink of a moment his eyes were red with blood while a net of thick black veins spread like a spider's web down his cheeks.

"It's not possible." Klaus snarled, baring his fangs. The message was clear – lie to me, and death would be a mercy, not a punishment. "You can't be alive."

"Guilty," Jenna muttered.

There was fire in his eyes, the fire and the beast that longed to break free. Getting him mad wasn't the idea. Getting him mad enough to kill her… well, she didn't even want to go there. But holding back snippy comments was beyond her at this point.

Hate was a strong word. All her life, whenever Jenna used it, she didn't really mean it. She could have been annoyed and frustrated, mad and disappointed with certain people and the course of events. But not now. When it came to Klaus, hate was a huge understatement. The feeling inside of her… well, Jenna couldn't quite name it. Never in her entire life did she want to literary _destroy_ another living being with the intensity she wanted to wipe Klaus off the face of the Earth until there was no trace of him left.

Klaus's free hand closed around her other elbow and he jerked her close almost lifting her off of her feet, their faces practically on one level now.

"No one can come back from the dead having a stake in their heart," he said slowly. "Unless you're an Original vampire. Which I know for sure you are not. Tell me the truth!" And the way he shook her must have distorted Jenna's internal organs, or so she suspected.

She gritted her teeth. "Screw you."

Which was a mistake, and Jenna knew it the moment the words were out of her mouth, maybe even before the sound died out. There was something about him, something absolutely crazy, that told her that he was going to rip her to pieces on the spot and without merest hesitation. If she had any doubts about the outcome of their socializing a few minutes ago, they were gone now. And it really hit her this time – he was really going to kill her. She overstepped the border. Klaus wasn't exactly emotionally stable as is, leave alone when someone was pushing him the way she did. Yeah, here's to being impulsive.

He was going to kill her. He was going to get away with killing Alaric. And then he would probably go and slaughter the entire town just for his own amusement.

"Niklaus," a calm, measured voice interrupted the train of Jenna's thought, and she blinked once, twice, wondering if she had actually heard it for real, "you're littering again." Chances were, it was nothing but her imagination fueled with stress and adrenaline rush.

Much to her surprise, Klaus paused as well, his face back to its human look in a split second, and then turned slowly, giving Jenna a chance to look over his shoulder. She was not entirely sure what surprised her more – the fact that there was something to stop Klaus from doing what he intended to do… or Elijah, who she spotted standing a few feet away from them like a living, breathing – sort of – definition of tranquility, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit pants. Everything about him was so dignified and composed that Klaus looked like a naughty spoilt five year old next to him.

Klaus frowned. "Elijah."

For a moment, Elijah's eyes flickered down to Alaric's body at his feet before going up to his brother again. He arched his eye brows expressively.

"People will stop inviting you in to their houses if you don't stop doing this, you know? What if you ruined the carpet?"

"Only when the invitation is necessary," Klaus smirked and let go of Jenna, making her all by fall down again, more out of surprise than anything else. "What are you doing here?"

Elijah stepped casually over Alaric's body without so much as acknowledgement, as if it was nothing but a pile of dirty laundry or something equally inconvenient and yet totally unimportant, and moved into the living room. He looked around curiously, taking in the furnishing and the paintings on the walls looking like he had stopped for a cup of tea or a small talk. He turned to Klaus in about half a minute.

"Amelie was looking for you." Carelessly, he tossed his cell phone to his brother, and Klaus caught it without a blink, his eyes never living his brother. "I think she has some news."

"What news?"

"I don't know." Elijah shrugged. "She is your witch, not mine."

Jenna attempted to merge into the wall. The fact that he was an Original as well completely slipped her mind, and now she couldn't help watching him with new apprehension, not sure what to make of him yet. Not sure she wanted to make anything of him at all. For some reason his mannered conversation with Klaus freaked her out more than if they'd behaved less… civilized. That would make sense at least. This? This was more like some sick joke she couldn't quite shake off.

Elijah didn't even look her way, not once. All of his attention was solely on his brother. Yet, unlike her, he seemed to be completely at ease around him. Not that Jenna expected him to. But it still felt somewhat eerie. He didn't look any different than when he was attending one of the tea parties Carol Lockwood organized for him in the past few weeks. And for more reasons than she could name, that was confusing, too.

She was one of them, Jenna reminded herself. She had a stash of blood bags in the fridge. She needed a ring if she wanted to go outside and not make a barbecue of herself. She could sense human blood from miles away, could hear their hearts beating and their fear coursing through their veins. And yet Jenna couldn't put herself on the same level with the vampires. Not yet. She couldn't help picturing them as monsters driven only by instincts in her mind. Cruel, merciless, single-minded – that was the image, and she knew she wasn't anything like _that_. Klaus was falling into it easily though, at least most of time. His brother, on the other hand, was crashing her concepts.

"And you're ignoring her calls," Elijah finished, sounding mildly amused and not at all bothered.

"I had a business to attend," Klaus noted.

"Priorities, brother." A long and tense silence followed, and all Jenna could hear was the blood rush in her own ears, and the inner clock that was ticking down her time. "I believe you should talk to her," Elijah pressed on, breaking it at last, his voice somewhat disinterested. He didn't seem to care much about Klaus and whatever "business" he was up to. It was all about passing down the message,

Klaus hesitated, considering, and then stomped out through the front door. Moments later his footsteps stirred the gravel on the driveway, and then everything was silent.

Jenna backed away a little, watching Elijah warily, still not certain about having him there.

Was he a friend or a foe? Neither, she guessed. She raked her brain, searching for the reasons why he could want having any of them dead but found none. Yet, Klaus was his brother, family ties and all, and it wasn't good news exactly. She doubted he would go against him. It seriously bothered her that she had no idea what to expect from him, which was almost worse than Klaus and his predictable violence issues.

Jenna didn't get to finish her frantic half-speculations, however, because Elijah suddenly focused his eyes on her. It seemed odd for a moment because up to this point she wasn't even sure he was aware of her presence in the room. She sucked in her belly when he crossed the distance between them in two big strides, soundless and lean as a cat.

Could someone please give her a break from those vampire moves?

"No need to be scared, Jenna," he spoke softly as if she were a spooked animal… and truthfully, it wasn't that far from the truth. At least the spooked part.

He kept his voice low and soothing, and something about his expression stopped her from sneering _Yeah, right!_ He looked like he… meant it? Oh, geez, _really_? He could snap her neck before she'd know it. In her mind, the image struggled with the one of a proper gentleman she had met at the Founders' Hall.

She genuinely liked him back then, Jenna recalled. As a person, as an interesting man she'd talked to for hours because he seemed to know so much! Naturally, it was all making sense now. How could he not know the history of humankind in details if he had lived through most of it? And really, was she actually that bad at seeing people for who they were? It was all a scam, and she felt like an idiot now. It was obvious that he used her. The whole story, these few weeks before she was turned, felt like they had happened in someone else's life. Like she was a mere observer and nothing else.

Jenna swallowed, watching him cautiously. He wasn't inflicting that horrible fear like Klaus did. But she still couldn't quite shake off the feeling that something was just… off.

"What do you want?" She whispered, her mouth dry and her throat feeling like sandpaper.

The question seemed to take Elijah by surprise for a moment.

"I believe Mr. Saltzman is going to be fine," he observed, and Jenna blinked in confusion. It was his voice, she decided. The way he was so composed all the time that it felt unnatural. "This nifty little ring did its job just fine in the past." He paused. "I have to apologize for my brother. It wasn't the right way to treat you and your friend. He shouldn't have come here and—"

"Killed him," Jenna finished darkly.

"Niklaus has always had bad temper. Even as human."

"And becoming a murderous psycho did little to change him for good. I got it, thank you."

Her voice was trembling with emotions she could neither define nor hold back, although disbelief was certainly dominating. Was Elijah actually apologizing for a string of bodies his brother had left behind? For all the broken and destroyed lives? Was he actually trying to justify his actions? Oh god. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. Was she really hearing it?

Something that looked suspiciously like understanding flashed across his face but it was gone before Jenna was certain she saw it at all, and his expression was an unreadable mask again.

"Is that what you do?" She asked quietly. "Follow him around and clean up his mess?"

"You don't understand."

The laughter that escaped her lips was harsh and bitter. And totally out of control. "Yeah, right, how could I? I just—I thought… you seemed different."

"I'm still a vampire." He all but scoffed.

They tended to say all the time, Jenna grimaced inwardly. Like it was a legit excuse to do what they'd all been doing, all the horrible things she didn't want to associate herself with. _Hey, let's go on a killing spree because we're the vampires! Let's rip apart families and ruin lives because that's what the vampires do!_ And it was making her sick.

"Last time I checked, it wasn't a sentence," she pointed out.

It wasn't for her… was it?

He paused, considering her words. His eyes roamed around her face as if searching for the answers he couldn't get otherwise.

But he brushed it off after a moment or two.

"Like I said," his voice was like smooth velvet against her skin, "Mr. Saltzman should be alright."

He caught her gaze with his, and Jenna found herself unable to look away, or speak, or even think properly. She could, however, see every detail, every spec and every shade of his irises, almost mesmerized. They were pulling her in, drawing her closer, and it felt like she could make a step and fall into them, and drown in his eyes. Her mind was empty and someone foggy as if someone put a blanket around her and shielded her from the rest of the world.

What were they talking about, again? She would remember if it was something important, right? Apparently, it wasn't.

"You don't need to remember any of that," Elijah said softly, his voice sounding distant.

Remember what? Jenna fought to understand but then all of sudden it stopped being important.

She blinked as if to clear her vision, and found herself standing in the living room of the lake house halfheartedly fighting to get her thoughts together. It was dark, empty and quiet.

"Jenna?" In the corridor, Alaric scrambled up to his feet, grabbing the crossbow from the floor as he did so. "What happened?"

"I—" she started and stumbled. Something just didn't click. Jenna looked down at the photographs lying on the floor and a pool of broken glass at her feet, and rubbed her forehead frowning a little. Why would they fall? There was an uneasy nagging feeling somewhere deep inside of her, a half-formed thought in the back of her mind that she couldn't get hold of. As though she had all the pieces of the puzzle but they whole picture still was wrong and confusing. "Nothing," she shook her head in the end.

Alaric opened his mouth again, but the squeal of the hinges, unnaturally loud and terrifying, cut him off.

His reaction was immediate. He swirled around, instantly putting himself between Jenna and potential danger, the crossbow flying up. His finger didn't hesitate on the trigger, not even for one goddamned moment. It was all about the element of surprise, and whoever was there – he wasn't going to give them any advantage. Shoot first, ask questions later. It was one of the rules about the vampires that he chose to follow regardless of the situation.

"Dude! Seriously?" An annoyed voice exclaimed a few long seconds later.

Damon stepped out of the blackness and into the pale pool of moonlight streaming through the patio doors. A stake that he caught in mid air was clutched in his hand. And he didn't look particularly pleased with it either.

"Damon?" Alaric lowered the crossbow.

"I thought we were past this," Damon snickered, and if Jenna didn't know any better, she'd think he was genuinely offended. The vampire tossed the stake away and shook his head. "You nearly ruined my favorite jacket," he added with mock reproach.

Jenna exhaled with exasperation, letting out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. Her muscles were sore from tensions. She brushed her hand through her hair and willed her heart to slow down a little.

"What they hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Jenna." Damon beamed at her. He swept the room with a curious glance that stopped eventually on the stake she was holding on to, and his brows arched. "Kinky. Is that a vampire thing? I mean, I hope we didn't interrupt—"

"Shut up, Damon," Stefan cut him off as he stepped into the room as well.

Jenna rolled her eyes at Damon's comment.

"I actually second that. What are you doing here?" Alaric inquired.

"What are _we_ doing here? Are you kidding me? You hadn't been answering your damn phone for five hours, man!" Damon scolded him, sounding irritated. "I was sure that by the time we get here, someone would munch you down for dinner and head to the nearest bar for a Bloody Mary and a dessert. If you just wanted to have some quality time with your girlfriend…" he glared at both of them in turns.

Stefan ignored his brother's tirade. "What happened here?"

Alaric and Jenna exchanged uneasy looks.

"Someone was here," Ric said if a little uncertainly and cleared his throat.

"Someone, as in—?" Stefan tensed and cast a quick look at Damon.

"Maybe," Jenna admitted reluctantly. None of them needed to speak Klaus's name out loud for everyone to know who exactly they were talking about.

"Is that why you're sitting in the dark? 'Cause Klaus would never find you here like that? In that case I'm afraid you forgot to hide under the blanket. It wouldn't work without it."

"Actually, the power is out," Alaric explained.

"And the phones are not working," Jenna added.

"And the car wouldn't start."

"And I have missed a new episode of Dr. House tonight."

"So, pick your drama of the day."

It was time for Damon and Stefan to exchange puzzled looks.

"I didn't know you were watching Dr. House." Damon frowned.

"What do you mean the phones are not working?" Stefan asked carefully. At least one of them seemed to be taking the situation seriously.

Damon hemmed skeptically and reached out to flip the switch.

Instantly, the room filled with the soft light of four chandeliers on the walls, making them all squint and blink.

"_That_ power?"

"It was out minutes ago," Alaric echoed somewhat absently, eyeing the chandeliers warily as if it was their fault that the light didn't turn on the first time around, as if half expecting them to act up or something. He wouldn't be merely surprised if they did.

What the hell was going on there?

One of Damon's eyebrows arched high enough to reach his hairline. He dug his cell phone out of the pocket of his black leather jacket and hit the speed dial button. Immediately the high pitched chirping followed.

"_These_ phones?" He sneered when Alaric fished hastily his mobile out of the pocket of his jeans. "You know, if this is some kind of a joke—"

"Does it look like a joke to you?" Alaric cut him off, and the two of them regarded each other for a little while, both of them antsy and frustrated by the whole situation. "Nothing was working. Do you think we would stay here otherwise? It was a total blackout."

"Witches," Stefan muttered and exchanged trouble looks with his brother.

Damon seemed to sober up minutely at the mention of the "servants of nature". "How about we continue this wonderful conversation somewhere else? Like, where the doors actually mean something?"

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><p>It was a little past three in the morning when Alaric slipped quietly out of bed after making sure that Jenna was asleep. She stirred a little when he moved and let out a soft sigh. His heart clenched at the sight of her, a bittersweet feeling in the pit of her stomach that was overwhelming him every time he was laying his eyes on her. In her sleep, she was so serene, so peaceful and beautiful that Alaric simply couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that someone out there wanted to hurt her on purpose. It was beyond his comprehension, regardless of who it was.<p>

He paused for a moment, watching her, as a bundle of uneasy thoughts rolled and coiled in his mind, then reached out to touch Jenna's hair, trail his fingers along her cheek before slanting down to brush his lips against her forehead. He had to make it right this time. He had to find a way to keep her safe, to keep her out of this mess altogether. Yet, in the light of recent events he couldn't quite see where to start.

Finally, Alaric straightened up and let out a long breath. He looked down at his sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, considered changing but then decided not to bother. He sneaked quietly out of the room and closed the door carefully, praying for Jenna not to wake up. It would be fair if at least one of them had decent rest. Too many questions, not nearly enough answers. His head was spinning and buzzing, and hell if he knew how to block it all out and catch a moment of sleep.

Alaric prodded along the corridor and then down two flights of stairs, grateful to the thick carpet for muting his footsteps. The lights were out at this time of the night, save for a couple of dim lamps in the opposite end of the corridor.

The fire was crackling softly in the fireplace when he entered the parlor, making the shadows dance and move on the walls. The very same parlor he used to spend his nights in after the sacrifice, consumed with guilt and unable to sleep when his restless mind was on fire as well.

This time Damon was a new detail to the picture. He was standing by the fireplace with a glass of whiskey in his hand, close enough for his eyebrows to be at risk of burning down. Unlike Alaric, he didn't look like he even considered going to bed, or at least that was what his black jeans and a dark t-shirt implied. Maybe he wasn't, Ric thought. It was night after all, his time of the day. Why bother?

Damon took a sip of his drink when Alaric walked in and didn't turn to acknowledge his presence in any way. There was some edge to him that Ric didn't like, especially when added to his own anxiety. Picture perfect.

"Pulling an all-nighter?" Alaric asked as he headed to the cart with bottles positioned in the corner between two massive bookshelves, wondering in the back of his mind if there was enough alcohol in the world to get them through all this. He dropped some ice-cubes into the tumbler and filled it with bourbon, regretting the tumblers weren't made bucket-sized.

"Finally no one is buzzing in my ears," Damon flinched putting excessive drama into his voice. "Ironically, this place is more crowded now than it had been when we actually used it as a boarding house, with tenants and all. I'm thinking about changing the locks. You think it could help?"

"Hardly."

"And you're being a night owl why?" Damon turned away from the fire, finished his drink and went for a refill.

Ric gave a glass in his hand a long look before heaving a weary sigh. "Thanks for coming to check on us."

"Elena would have my guts if anything happened to Jenna. Again." The vampire shrugged somewhat dismissively, neither of them comfortable with the topic. "And I think she has a soft spot for you, too. Although we'll see about that during the finals. Bet she's going to reconsider."

Alaric's lips quirked a little at the comment. He wondered ruefully if anyone in his reality even cared about school, grades and exams. The time when things like that actually mattered seemed to be so far away in the past he wasn't even sure they weren't a part of some dream he had long woken up from and that started to fade on the edges like an old photo. Would it feel the same way in a few years? Would it blur even more? Problem was, he had no idea how he truly felt about either possibility.

It probably wasn't right but he couldn't help thinking every now and then that maybe it would be better to forget about his life _before_ altogether. Chances were that in that case it would be easier to accept the craziness of _now_.

He nodded and let a gulp of whiskey burn its way through his body, waiting for a familiar warmth to settle in his stomach. "Yeah."

"Is Jenna okay?"

"She's asleep." Alaric scrubbed his hand down his face before giving the vampire a tired look. "Tell me there is a way to deal with Klaus. With… any of them."

"The Original vampires? An asteroid crashing into the Earth would do," Damon offered, shrugging with fake indifference. "Maybe another Ice Age. You know, at some point they'd just run out of food. Unless, of course, they'd pick up on Stefan's diet. In that case we're screwed." He paused. "So, do you want to tell me what exactly happened there? At the lake house?"

Alaric didn't respond right away. Instead he fixed his gaze on the fire as if hoping to see the answer he was desperately looking for in the dancing flames. There was a fight inside of him between what he knew and what he wanted to believe. Neither, sadly, was satisfying enough to sooth his inner turmoil.

"Someone was there, Damon," he said at last, his voice hollow as if coming from far away. Alaric met his eyes. "Something happened, and then they made Jenna forget about it."

"What—?" Damon tensed visibly, and Alaric could see the thinking process on his face, until the truth fully kicked in, and they both started to wish it never did. "Klaus? But how…?" Yeah, it wasn't easy to grasp it. He had spent his share of time raking his brain for possibilities as well. "Did you see him?"

"No." Alaric looked down at his ring for a moment. Took another sip of whiskey, wishing he could gulp the whole bottle at once and forget about that crap for good. Or at least for a little while so that he could start breathing properly again. But even that seemed a bit too luxurious than he could afford at the moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then ran his fingers through his hair rumpling it and making it stick out in every direction. Glanced up then, his expression grim and bearing some finality. "I've been enough times through the routine to know what it feels like to come back from the dead."

**To be continued…**

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><p>Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think :) Your opinion is highly appreciated!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note**: And, here we go! Next chapter, only 2 weeks after the last update, instead of 2 months like the previous time :) Will try to maintain it this way as much as I can. Thank you so much for your patience.

**irishcookie**, your PMs are disables, so I'll thank you here! Really appreciate your feedback. I absolutely love your fics and your opinion means a lot :) I absolutely loved Jenna/Elijah dynamics on the show. Can't say I could see them together in a romantic way, but their chemistry should have definitely been explored better. Another wasted relationship :P

Theme song of this chapter is "Everything" by Alanis Morissette. I was kind of obsessed with it after 2x21 with all the scenarios and possibilities of Jenna's life as a vampire playing in my head. That _"You see all my light, and you love my dark…"_ part seemed very Jalaric ~le sigh~

Anyway, I'm babbling… Dig in!

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

_~You see everything, you see every part,_

_You see all my light, and you love my dark…_

"_Everything" by Alanis Morissette~_

The early morning sun was shining through the cracks between the lace drapes. Jenna awoke to the feel of it on her skin, soft and gentle, like a touch of silk. The warmth she thought she would have to live without.

The window was obviously open a tiny bit and cool morning breeze was brushing lightly against her cheek, as the warmth of the sunlight shifted with the sways of curtains. She could hear the birds chirping outside, the wind playing in the treetops, the rustle of leaves scattered all over the garden. Even half-sleep, she easily picked the ticking of the clock on the shelf across the room and the creaks and shifts of the old house as it lived and breathed on its own. These were the sounds she was steadily growing accustomed to.

She smiled to herself without opening her eyes. Life was getting all sorts of crazy lately. It was still weird and uncomfortable, all the feelings and smells and sounds had been so overwhelming that Jenna was seriously contemplating wearing a bag on her head to shield herself from at least some of them and finally catch a break. She knew that they were all walking on tightrope, that every day could be their last one. And she tried not to think about the fact that regardless of the outcome of the whole situation with Klaus, life would never be exactly the same for either of them – if only because it was the only way not to lose her mind. One breath at a time, one step after another. Anything bigger than that was too much at the moment...

Practical that she was, to a certain extent, Jenna had never expected her life to be all sunshine and rainbows. Yet, she had also never considered it being bad in any way. Just an ordinary routine of an ordinary personal living in an ordinary small town in the middle of nowhere.

Until the vampires flooded it and made the ground slip from under her feet. Until they had taken away all the normality she'd been holding on to, shattering her reality, making her question her very existence and the path she should take from now on as she fought to keep what was left of her family together. And alive.

On the moments like that, however, basking lazily in the morning sunlight, feeling the steady rise and fall of Alaric's chest as he breathed, she was happy. In spite of everything, in spite of the whole world falling apart around her, Jenna couldn't help feeling like she was the happiest person on Earth.

Alaric was awake. His breath was slow and even but not as deep as when he was sleeping. _Thump, thump, thump…_ His heartbeat was faster, too. Funny how easily she could pick up on the things like that. It was now coming as naturally as breathing without her even paying any attention. Well, not really at least. _Thump, thump, thump…_ She loved the sound, the steady rhythm. Loved knowing that he was there right beside her, that he was safe.

On the moments like that she loved to believe that all was right in the world.

"I know you're not asleep," Alaric whispered, his voice hoarse and low.

Slowly, Jenna pried one eye open, and then giggled when she saw him watching her, his hair a mess and his chin shadowed with stubble. Her heart made an instant leap at the sight of him and she bit her lower lip to avoid grinning like an idiot.

_Thump, thump, thump…_

"Hey," Jenna murmured.

"Morning," Ric called back, his soundless laughter vibrating through his body.

Jenna scooted closer to him and snuggled into his shoulder. "What time is it?"

"Around nine."

Her hand crept up to his chest and her fingers started drawing lazy circles on his shirt as she sipped in the warmth coming from his body. _Thump, thump, thump…_ "How about we stay here all day?"

"That's the plan."

She looked up, her smile widening minutely. "I like that plan."

Jenna took her time to study his face. He had a worried crease between his brows she couldn't quite place, and even though the smile on his face was genuine, _that_ she knew for sure, there was some tightness to it she didn't like either. He looked like there was a cloud hanging over him, the one that promised hurricane wind and pouring rain.

She blinked, and it was all gone, making Jenna wonder if she had seen that doubt behind his eyes at all. Just like that, he was suddenly just sleepy, his expression soft and sort of goofy at this early hour.

"You okay?" Alaric asked her quietly.

Jenna shook it off. God, she was putting so much into nothing lately it was really annoying hell out of her. She did love the special seeing and hearing stuff, her faster reflexes and all the benefits. The emotional overload and this damned over-thinking, though, were driving her nuts.

"I am now," she promised, smiling. Her eyes searched his face. "We'll get through this, right?" God, she wasn't even sure what the hell she was talking about! The Klaus thing? Her being a vampire? Something else she couldn't quite form into a coherent concept yet? Jenna didn't know. And from the look on Alaric's face she knew he didn't either.

Ric rolled over to lie face to face with her. The shadow of uncertainty she had spotted earlier flashed across his features again, but only for a moment. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"That's what we are doing," he assured her, wishing for the umpteenth time for things to go differently between them from the start, for all the chances they had missed to come back, for all the time they shouldn't have wasted. It was wrong that all of that had to happen to her, to them. It just wasn't fair. Alaric suppressed a sigh. "It's a lot, I know. If there is anything—"

She craned her neck and pressed her lips to his for a moment. "I'm glad you're here," she breathed out. "Instead of running for the hills, you chose to stick around this vampire nest and deal with an emotionally unstable newbie…" She wrinkled her nose.

"You are not emotionally unstable," he disagreed. "You're strong."

"No, I'm not," Jenna laughed and buried her face into the pillow letting it mute the sound. "Stubborn maybe. Persistent, if you please."

"Yes, you are."

She had always been strong, he thought. Maybe even the strongest of them all. Even when she didn't know how, or why, or what for, she had always been a safe harbor for people around her. An island of something stable and solid and normal in this chaos. When the walls were falling down and they had nothing to hold on to, she had always been the anchor that kept them from being washed away into the open sea. And the fact that she did it without any effort on her part, without knowing why they needed it so much, was the most amazing thing.

They had no right to take her for granted, to make a fool of her for so long. But they did, hiding behind lame excuses and half truths. Excuses that were like a slap in the face to her. They were making Alaric cringe on the inside whenever his mind drifted back to the time of keeping Jenna locked in the closet, figuratively speaking.

It wasn't his call to make though. Not from the start. Not when he had no idea where the things between him and Jenna were heading. He didn't want to get in, to get attached, to step into the new territory of being attracted to someone again. Back then, he felt like a jerk and a coward, but it was easier that way. It was easier to push his feelings away and pretend that it was better like this. He was scared. Back then, he decided it was a family business, and letting Elena deal with it seemed to be the right thing to do.

He hated himself for it.

All these months of lies and secrets – looking at them now, all Alaric wanted was to go back in time, push harder and insist on telling her everything from the start. If only they did it, if only they weren't so foolishly delusional, maybe the things would go differently.

It was too late to reminisce about it now, to ponder the possibilities and what-ifs, but he couldn't help it. Couldn't help wanting more for her, for both of them.

After finding out the truth, Jenna had every right to kick him out of her life, slam the door in his face, throw away the key and never ever talk to him again. Deep inside, it was exactly what Alaric expected to happen after everything he had done to her, all the pain he had caused, after being such a monumental disappointment. And if she did, who would blame her? Instead, she found it in her to forgive, to leave it all behind – something he wasn't sure he couldn't brag about because the whole Isobel story still stung a little. He knew he didn't entirely get over his wife's betrayal. Which made Jenna's acceptance so much more admirable and important.

"You have no idea how strong you really are, Jenna," Alaric whispered, more to himself than to her seeing as how she took it with a great deal of skepticism, then paused. "You know that I will always be here, right?" He asked softly, his breath grazing her cheek. "No running for the hills."

She turned, met his gaze again, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes. "I am starting to believe that my evil master plan to get rid of you is doomed."

Alaric snorted. "Not a chance, Sommers. Don't even waste your time."

_Thump, thump, thump…_

Jenna moved closer, her hand going to rest on his chest, right where his heart was beating under her palm. The sun was falling on Alaric's face now, making him squint a little, and she found herself unable to look away. Had his eyes always had so many colors to them? Somewhat greenish around the pupil turning into sky-blue with the grey rim circling the iris. She had seen it all before more times than she could count, but now it felt new and different as if she was looking into his eyes for the first time ever. As if all these colors were hiding from her waiting for the right moment when she could properly appreciate them for all they were worth.

It felt like she was the only one to see them all like that, and the warmth pooled in Jenna's stomach at the thought as her lips formed into a small smile of the will of their own.

She reached out to run her fingertips down Alaric's cheek, tracing rough texture of the stubble. Her thumb stroked the wrinkles in the corner of his eye. The smile wrinkles that carried delight and laughter in them. Same delight that was coursing through her own body whenever Ric was around. The first thing that Jenna felt upon waking up next to him, the reason she was grinning like an idiot for no particular reason a ridiculous amount of time. It felt like a dream sometimes. And if it was – well, she sure as hell didn't want to wake up.

"I have no idea what I would do without you." Jenna told him if a little absently as her fingers fiddled with the hair on at the nape of Alaric's neck.

"Crush and burn," he suggested helpfully.

"Probably."

"Does it mean you don't want to get rid of me anymore?"

"Guess I'll have to reconsider it," she nodded primly.

"Hmmm, and what are my chances?"

"Growing. Ric?"

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

Alaric studied her face for a moment, letting his gaze wander around her features, taking in every detail from Jenna's high forehead, to her delicately arched eyebrows, to deep blue eyes that had so much life within them they were almost glowing with it – a soft glow that kept him captive – to a gentle curve of her lips. He had no idea what it was about her that was making him feel like that, making him feel like home, feel like he belonged. She was giving him peace. She was giving him everything he didn't even know he wanted but what he couldn't live without anymore. And hell if he was going to let it slip through his fingers, not again.

Looking at her now, however, pushed Alaric back to what he had said to Damon the previous night. Was he right after all? He hated the idea. But… dying and coming back to life because of some witchy magic wasn't exactly the experience he could have mistaken for something else. The very idea of not knowing what had happened on while he was… well, dead, was painful, setting his mind on fire with an endless string of possibilities none of which could sooth his panic.

His worries resurfaced again, and instantly the sunlit room was filled with shadows of fear lurking in the corners. It felt like even the temperature dropped a few degrees, making Alaric shiver a little even though he knew that the cold was coming mainly from within him. If the bastard hurt her, if he so much as laid a finger on her, he would gladly rip him apart with his bare hands.

He shook it off though. For now. Going crazy would do little good. Besides, ruining the moment was the last thing he wanted to do.

Instead, he propped his head on his hand, looking down at Jenna with a contemplative smile.

"As I said, we could stay here all day," he started thoughtfully.

"And it sounds like a really good idea," Jenna trickled her fingers up his chest, and giggled at the sharp intake of his breath.

"Or," Alaric continued almost casually, given the circumstance, "we could venture out where no one is breathing down our necks, have a lunch at the Grill, go catch a movie. I still owe you some quality _we_-time." He paused to let the offer sink in. "What do you think?"

Downstairs, someone was rummaging through the fridge. Jenna could smell a whiff of fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen. Damon was on the phone in the back patio outside although she didn't bother eavesdropping, not interested enough at this point. Soft music was coming from the top floor where she knew Stefan's room was located. A muffled knock on the front door broke through the clatter and commotion, and moments later Bonnie's voice added to the buzz that Jenna was trying – with limited success – to block out.

The memories of how they were literary walking on egg-shells around her during the first few days after the sacrifice were still too fresh for comfort. How the conversations tended to die out upon her stepping into the room and the gazes averted. How they behaved like she was going to break and fall apart because of thoughtless word or a sidelong glance. Or worse – how they were wary of her as if not knowing what to expect from her. They didn't know what to say or do around her, and Jenna could almost feel their guilt and confusion with her skin, which was making her want to scream.

It got much better eventually. She stopped feeling sick to her stomach from thinking that she was the cause of this tension and awkwardness. She stopped feeling like hiding in the corner if only to avoid seeing their faces. It got to be almost like _before_, and she couldn't help feeling so endlessly relieved.

Some we-time with Ric sounded good, though. Really good. They hadn't had nearly enough of it lately. If ever.

"Okay, I see the point," she grimaced and moved a little closer to Alaric, making him chuckle. "Wait… lunch?" One of her eyebrows arched.

"Uh-huh." He slipped his arms around her waist and flopped on his back, pulling Jenna on top of him. "Because we're so not done with breakfast yet."

_~…You dig everything of which I'm ashamed,_

_There's not anything to which you can't relate._

_And you're still here…_

"_Everything" by Alanis Morissette~_

* * *

><p>Kelly Smithson hopped out of the passenger door of her friend's Ford and slammed it shut with enough force to make the whole car shake. None of them paid any attention to it, though. The window rolled down moments later.<p>

"Seven sharp?" Jennifer asked, leaning closer to her over the seat.

"Not a minute later," Kelly grinned.

"I could have dropped you off by the front door, you know."

"They've got some road maintenance going on there, you'd have a hell of time if you got stuck. Thanks for the ride anyway, Jen."

"Try to not overwork," Jennifer snickered as she hit the gas, the tires screeching against the asphalt.

Kelly chuckled and shook her head as she watched the tail of a blue car disappear around the corner. "Oh, crap," she muttered after checking her watch and hurried down the narrow alley, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail and fixing it hastily with a rubber band as she walked.

Working part time in the convenience store wasn't her dream job, far from it. But a few shifts a week covered occasional parties and some new clothes and make-up without having to start a war with her mother. Plus, it was making her look a lot more mature and responsible – she flinched inwardly as her father's words ran through her mind – which also was some sort of a benefit. And, just to make it even more appealing, Mr. Bristow, the owner-slash-manager-slash-chief consultant, was looking through his fingers at her running late for work every now and then and finishing her home tasks when the store was empty. The pay was low and pretty miserable but a few hours away from "home sweet home" and her parents' nagging her about something or another, or fighting with each other for that matter, was something Kelly was clinging to despite obvious disadvantages of her position.

And speaking of running late… Mrs. Barrows held them longer than usual after the class to give out the assignments and ramble about the importance of the grades and overall grown-up crap. Yeah, like that one exam was going to matter ten years from now. Right! Kelly had spent this time looking at the clock hanging on the wall right over the teacher's head every half a minute and tapping her foot nervously, thus missing most part of what had been said.

She was wondering sometimes if the teachers actually believed what they were talking about, or if they had some sort of "How to live right" leaflet they memorized and were reciting it whenever they had a chance. Well, one thing she knew for sure – her life would be 'righter' if she stopped being late for work. So much for being responsible and stuff. She huffed on the inside. Maybe telling something like that to Mrs. Barrows would do the difference?

Nah, Kelly grimaced and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder before she dropped it down. Mrs. Barrows was a typical cat lady without any understating of social life whatsoever. And Kelly was not the one to encourage yet another never-ending lecture on… anything.

God, where did she put the keys?

She rummaged through the pockets, then dug into the bag. She hated using the back door, mainly because the alley behind the convenience store was narrow, dark and spooky even during the day time. The buildings were crammed so close together in that part of town that the sun seemed to never reach the ground. Because of that parts of the walls were constantly covered with splashes of sickening green moss, and together with the damp smell and exceptionally chilly air – as if that particular street belonged to some other dimension with its own temperature and climate – it was making Kelly associate it with some dark creepy cave.

But the road maintenance was a real deal – and a business killer in a way, at least for those who weren't up for walking an extra block or two. It meant a quiet afternoon, of course. With any luck she even wouldn't end up staying extra late with her assignments. Which wasn't a bad thing. But if she asked Jennifer to drop her off at the front door, she'd get cursed by her friend who'd have to make a huge circle to get home after that. Hence, back door and chills down her spine. Thank God, the payday was close, and it was always making her a lot more accepting of pretty much everything.

If only she could find the damned keys!

She could have knocked of course. Mr. Bristow would open the door for her, but it would make her being late even more obvious, and Kelly wasn't sure she wanted it. Besides, she knew she had the set. She remembered grabbing it from her dresser in the morning, if only because the key scraped her palm when she did, and the memory stuck. Problem was, she totally blacked out about what she did with it next.

"Gotcha!" She all but beamed all over when her fingers finally closed around cool metal that fell down to the very bottom of her bag.

The sun went down, plunging the dim alley into deep thick shadows. Kelly shivered and looked over her shoulder involuntarily. The streetlamp came to life at the corner, and the sight of it made her relax a little. It was barely reaching her spot, but it was better than nothing. It would probably be wise to cajole Mr. Bristow into hanging some sort of lamp over the back door, she noted absently. Or just a bulb, it would already solve the problem. Not that she used it often or anything—

Kelly tripped over something and reached for the wall to keep the balance and not land on her knees. She cursed under her breath when her fingers grazed along the wet cold stone, cringing in disgust. Must have been some junk someone left here instead of tossing in into the dumpster. The alley had a few back doors leading from shops and cafes, so it wasn't that uncommon. It wasn't her business though, Kelly decided. She wasn't trash patrol or anything, she just needed to get to her work place and have a cup of tea. Mr. Bristow's wife was providing him with homemade stuff sometimes, so with any luck she might be able to get a bite of cinnamon rolls or raisin cookies.

If only she could get past whatever was lying in her way! What the hell was it, anyway?

Squinting and fighting to make out what was lying on the ground, Kelly moved towards the center of the alley hoping to circle it around. A box, she guessed, or a bundle of… something. Whatever. It felt soft when her foot bumped into it, like a pile of clothes. On an irritated sigh, she pulled out her mobile phone to use the light of a small screen to see where she should go to get past that stupid obstacle. Okay, she is so taking the front entrance tomorrow! Before that creepy place shaved ten years off of her life.

It was a brown shoe that Kelly saw first. A simple brown shoe, somewhat scarred and rather old, but not at all uncommon. It basically screamed – for the age 40 and older. She blinked, confused, until it downed on her that she shoe wasn't lying there on its own. It was, unsurprisingly, attached to the leg dressed in a dark tweed leg pant. The kind of tweed that Mr. Bristow was a huge fan of. Kelly swallowed uneasily, feeling something sick and heavy and cold settle in the pit of her stomach, reluctant to lift her phone higher and see more.

"What the…"

_Oh god, oh god, oh god…._

Could she just turn around and run away and pretend she hadn't seen anything at all? It was so damn tempting that Kelly nearly did exactly that, if only because she started shaking all over from tension and fear and the combination of both.

Instead, she let the light of a small screen slide up the leg – honest to god human leg that most likely belonged to a real human being – until it reached checked plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves draped over the dark blue t-shirt, and finally the face, so pale it was practically white, with the fizzle of grey hair framing it and making it look even more ghostly. Watery blue eyes were staring right up at her. No, past her and into nowhere. Kelly didn't know, however, what scared her more – that gaze, or the splashes of dark red all over Mr. Bristow's throat. It was him. It was impossible not to recognize him, even with his head almost removed from his body. For a moment she thought she could see torn veins and arteries, and it was a miracle she didn't pass out right there and then.

Kelly pressed her hand hard to her lips to hold back muffled whimpering noises that formed in the back of her throat and staggered backwards, shocked. It was impossible, was it? She wasn't really seeing anything like that. How could… no, really, who on earth would…

Her knees gave in and she collapsed heavily into the cold cobbled street, her heart beating so fast she was seeing bright spots dancing before her eyes. _Call someone_, she told herself clutching her phone so hard her fingers hurt. _Call someone, tell them you found him_. The task seemed to be too much of an effort, though.

It hit her then that she could hear the footsteps approaching her. A faint sound at first, almost inaudible past the blood rush in her ears, it grew louder and steadier once she manager to focus properly on it. Kelly snapped her head up and whipped it around, peering intensely into the shadows. She opened her mouth to ask who it was, to say something, but her tongue remained frozen in her mouth. A sense of relief washed over her instantly, however. Knowing that she wasn't alone with what had once been her boss, that she wouldn't have to deal with it just by herself – it almost made her leap up to her feet. Except that her limbs didn't seem to be cooperative at the moment.

Must have been someone from the neighboring shops, she thought distractedly. She wasn't the only one to use the back door, was she? She knew most of them, if not personally, then at the very least visually.

Seeing a distorted half human face with unnaturally long fangs covered with blood was not what she expected to find right before her when the person stopped right next to her, though. She hadn't expected it, and that was the problem. It was too much. On top of everything else, it was more than Kelly Smithson could handle at once.

She started to scream.

* * *

><p>"So, what have we here?" Damon asked, ducking under the yellow police tape that surrounded the crime scene and kept the curious as far away from it as possible.<p>

Two police cars with the blinking red and blue lights parked at the mouth of the alley were making a good job to keep half the area on their toes with their mouths half open, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of the show. Mystic Falls was a small town after all, and even with all social events going on there almost non-stop, and the thrill of regular "animal attacks" in the woods, it still lacked decent entertainment, which meant that people were desperately grasping at whatever they could get, whether it was a Miss Mystic Falls pageant, a Friday night football game, or a violent blood bath. Or at least that was what Damon thought they were dealing with this time. Sheriff Liz Forbes wasn't normally calling him if it was about some mundane stuff on the list of the small town routine. All the previous times she did contact him, the vampires were involved one way or another.

He still thought they should have removed the cars though. At least if they wanted to keep low profile on this one.

Liz Forbes turned to him with an exasperated look on her face when Damon approached her, and once again he noted how helpless she tended to look sometimes on the moments like that. Being brought up with the belief that all vampires were evil, that she had to protect her loved ones from them, and not always being able to do so was hard on her, it was impossible not to see it. If only he wasn't on the other side of the line… But then again, she seemed to understand that the world wasn't black and white like that. That there was a way for their species to co-exist in some resemblance of peace and balance. Which, Damon suspected, was one and only reason she hadn't unloaded a whole gun of wooden bullets into him yet.

It did not, of course, mean she didn't want to or wouldn't want some time in the future.

"What it is, Liz?" He asked somewhat carefully, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer, what with this nagging disturbing feeling growing inside of him. That desperation in her eyes couldn't be good. Not to mention that the scent of blood was so think in the air he could barely define the smell of wet moss and coffee that Sheriff's deputies wore almost like perfume these days past it.

"Look," she stepped aside, revealing two bodies lying on the ground a few feet away from them. They were covered with white sheets, which did little difference as said sheets were all splotched with dark red spots where the blood soaked through the fabric. "Carl Bristow, the owner of the convenience store, and his part time student employee Kelly Smithson. One of the managers of the copy and stationery shop that has a back door leading to this alley sneaked out to have a smoke and heard the scream." She waved her hand at the white-faced twenty-something guy that stood with one of the deputies to the right from them. He shook visibly all over and did his best to keep his eyes off of the bodies. "He was the one who called us." Liz paused and locked her eyes on Damon's. There was fear and panic in them he couldn't blame her for. "Their throats are practically torn out, bodies drained of blood."

Which stood bright and clear for _vampires_.

He saw it coming of course. If only because the actual cougars hadn't visited Mystic Falls, like, ever. He did have some sort of a suspicion that the forest animals would get together one day and attack the boarding house to get to Stefan for his unhealthy diet habits. But he doubted they'd come for random strangers that, apparently, simply ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. It still threw him off a little anyway. Knowing that there was a vampire on the loose that didn't care about keeping a low profile… well, it was unsettling even in Mystic Falls where the population of supernatural beings almost prevailed the humans.

"Wrong place, wrong time," he muttered under his breath, not addressing anyone in particular.

"There is something else," Liz added, chewing nervously on the lower lip.

"What?" His frown deepened. _Please don't tell me we have a zombie issues or crazy dwarves problem_, he begged in his mind almost meaning it. Yeah, like having Klaus on their heels wasn't bad enough already.

Liz hesitated for a moment, as if bracing herself for something, then turned and marched up to the bodies. She told the deputy that guarded them shifting from foot to foot uneasily to go fetch something from the car, like an extra pair of rubber gloves or something. Damon didn't really care. The deputy, whose face was unnaturally greenish pale, complied enthusiatically with an expression of utter relief, more than eager to get away from there by the looks of it.

One of Damon's eyebrows arched a little. They weren't normally that squeamish. Which could only mean that what he was about to see wasn't nice.

And it definitely wasn't.

The man in his mid fifties basically didn't have any throat left. His glassy eyes were staring past Damon into the jet black sky and most of his clothes were drenched with blood. His skin had grayish pallor that screamed "dead" and that was one of the signs of severe blood loss.

The vampire flinched a little. They were predators, driven mostly by survival instinct. It dominated in them like nothing else, and their basic urge was to follow their natural needs without so much as looking back. Hunt, kill – basically, they didn't need anything else. It was, however, a direct way to die. Those who chose that path were an easy target. That was why most of them were making an effort at adapt, to have a chance to survive.

The one who did it to those to people was either an idiot, or it was a set up of some sort. A message that he – or she – needed to pass down together with some sort of a warning. And he sure as hell didn't like the undertone of it.

"Not pretty," Damon admitted.

"Yes, but it is not what bothers me. Well, not only." Liz cleared her throat and pulled the sheet down until it revealed the man's hands. "This is what…" she choked and swallowed hard. It was obvious that staying cold, detached and indifferent wasn't easy. "I have never seen anything like that before."

Damon's heart plummeted heavily down to his stomach.

The man's fingers were thin a crooked, like the twigs of an old tree. There were symbols on the back of his hands crossed on his chest, probably cut with the knife, especially bright on the white skin. He had never seen them before – never seen anything like that, period. They looked like something from the witchy books, like the stuff he had come across when flipping through Emily's Grimoire in his desperate attempts to bring Katherine back a few months ago. Nothing that he could have recognized, though.

Okay, so it wasn't just a vampire on the loose. It was some _psycho_ vampire on a mission. Probably. Why would anyone do that? Why leave a message no one could understand? Or could they? _Damn it_, he cursed on the inside. Not knowing what was going on, being out of control irked Damon on more than one level. And he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

He straightened up, looked solemnly at Liz.

"I have no idea what it means," she said in a quiet voice. "The girl has the same thing done to her," added after throwing a quick glance over her shoulder. "There is nothing else, nothing to explain what they were meaning by these… signs. I don't know what to make of it, Damon."

"Well, that makes two of us." He muttered darkly.

"I'll keep it low," Liz started, "but…"

"I'll look into it." Damon looked around at the crowd gathering near the yellow crime scene tapes, the buzz of the voices penetrating his mind and making it hard to think properly. "You'd want to go there and tell them something, perhaps. Feed them some story that will make them lose their interest. I don't know, something about the drunk fight or whatever is the least interesting story you can come up with." His gaze flickered up. "What about the guy that found them? Any chance he's involved?"

The Sheriff shook her head. "No, I don't think so. His name's Simon Donner, I have known his family for years. He goes to college and works part time to help his mom and younger brother." She paused. "He is not a vampire, if that's what you're asking. Also, he's clean, no alcohol or drugs in his blood, nothing to trigger such… violence. Said he heard the girl scream and went to see what was wrong. Found them like that. Hadn't seen anyone or seen anything. He claims to be in good relationship with Carl Bristow on a hello-goodbye level. Saw Kelly a few times but never really talked to her. From where I stand, he didn't have a single reason to do any of this to them." They both looked his way for a moment. "He's pretty shaken, but thank God he was smart enough not to touch anything and call us immediately."

"Hm," Damon nodded absently, losing his interest by the second.

The waves of fear coming from Simon Donner couldn't have been an act, the guy was scared as hell, and he would hardly be had he done anything to the victims. Besides, he looked rather skinny and unimpressive. Liz didn't mention any other injures beside the "vampire" ones, and surely if someone would attack a grown man who obviously was taller and probably stronger, he'd put some effort into defending himself. They'd both have some marks of struggle in that case, scratches and bruises, and Damon knew for sure that the Sheriff checked for them first to eliminate the obvious possibility of an attack or robbery. Which still left more questions than answers.

He looked down at the bodies again, considering. Liz covered Carl Bristow with the sheet, lest the curious spot something and make it look like Mystic Falls was attacked by Godzilla and Moby Dick by the morning. God, why couldn't they deal with one drama at a time for once? Why did they have to grow like a snowball rolling downhill?

Because the damn life is great like that, he added grimly in his mind but decided not to comment.

The symbols cut on the backs of the victims' hands bothered him greatly. He walked up to the girl and lifted the sheet, making sure to avoid looking at her face. She had the sleeves of her grey hoodie rolled up to her elbows, and her skin was smooth, light and young. He felt a pang of regret shoot through him, against better judgment and common sense. It reminded him too much of Elena and all the times she had been in mortal danger in the past few months. And it wasn't something Damon liked pondering. She had made it pretty clear it was all about Stefan, and his only option was to stay away and lurk in the background. If only he could cut her out of his mind – and heart – for good.

He hurried to brush the thought off. It didn't matter now. Made sure he memorized the symbols well enough to be able to draw them later and lowered the sheet back down. At least he wasn't the one to drop the news on the families, and he knew that deep inside Liz dreaded that part the most.

Who on earth would be running around and cutting some weird stuff of people's bodies?

Damon rose to his feet and faced the Sheriff again. The sound of the distant voices faded a little. The deputies must have succeeded in talking the people into leaving at last. Yes, this was the free show no one wanted to miss – the downside of the police work in a small town. He doubted the crime scene would attract just as much attention in New York where they had… well, way too many of them per square meter.

"It was the vampire, wasn't it?" Liz asked, and even though he knew she didn't really mean it, there was almost a plea in her eyes – _please, don't tell me it's Caroline_.

Damon knew it wasn't. How the hell could it be Caroline if she practically moved to the boarding house and he could hear her chipper voice every bloody second he was at home? Which, he had to admit, was a relief, making it easy to exclude certain people. But he didn't know how to say it without being too intrusive either.

"Given the character of the wounds and the blood loss? I'd say so." He tapped his feet impatiently on the cobbled street. "Okay, look, I am going to try to figure out what the crazy writings mean. Seems like we have a new player, and I am not at all excited about it. You keep your eyes open and call me if you have anything. Deal?"

Liz nodded curtly, took a deep breath and put on the mask she was bound to wear at work. Detached and professional, with the emotions hidden deep enough to stay unnoticed by those who didn't know where to find them.

"Sure. Damon?" She waited for him to meet her eyes again. "Thank you."

Reaching for his cell phone, Damon offered her a small half-smile. "Take care, Liz."

* * *

><p>It was a quarter past nine when Alaric pushed the door open and held it for Jenna before following her outside into the semi-dark street illuminated by the streetlamps and a huge rising moon hanging low near the horizon.<p>

"I can't believe they are still screening _Casablanca_ in the theatres," he noted as chilly evening air enveloped around them.

"Why?" Jenna quirked her eyebrow curiously.

"Well… it's old?"

"It's a perfect piece of a classical movie," she pointed out. "Why do we have to learn about Civil War, Mr. History Teacher? It's old!"

"It's not the same."

Alaric stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked up at the scatter of stars winking down at them before throwing a quick sidelong glance at Jenna who walked beside him, nibbling at her pink cotton candy the size of Idaho, unable to hold back a smile that spread across his face at the sight. She was relaxed – for the first time in, like, forever – he could feel it, and a deep warm contentment spread all over him at the realization.

"Yeah, sure," Jenna agreed, huffing.

"But don't worry," he continued matter-of-factly, "I'm sure that in about fifty years Mystic Falls will catch up with all the latest releases, and we will be blessed with… let me think, _Back to the Future_ or _Jurassic Park_. Perfect pieces of classical movies!" Alaric mimicked her voice.

"Go on, make fun of the small town, big city boy," she drawled with thick southern accent, elbowing him as she let out a short laugh and making him chuckle.

"It's a big world out there," he observed with philosophical seriousness before breaking into a huge grin again. "Hey, I thought you said you don't have a sweet tooth."

"I don't."

"What's with this thing then?" He nodded towards her cotton candy. "It looks like a giant alien on the stick."

"Well, because," Jenna stopped, pinched a piece of sweet mass that smelled heavily of sugar and cherry, and put it into Alaric's mouth, "it's delicious," she finished in a whisper as if sharing a secret, moving closer to him.

He swallowed. "Hard to disagree with that."

His arms slipped underneath Jenna's jacket and around her waist as he pulled her close against his body and dipped down to capture her lips with his. She tasted sweet, of candy and lip-gloss, and something that was purely Jenna. Something that was making his insides flutter and his head spin. Alaric's hands locked behind her back. His lips brushed against her almost tauntingly first before he allowed himself to deepen the kiss, to let them be swept off of their feet. He felt her free hand crawl up, close around the sleeve of his jacket and hold on tight. The sounds of the street, the voices of the crowd around them faded.

"It does taste pretty good, doesn't it?" Jenna asked breathily when he pulled away a long while later.

"You have no idea."

In the dim light of the streetlamps and shop-windows her fair skin and soft honey mane of silky hair almost glowed while her eyes glinted, catching the fractions of light. How the woman managed to take his breath away without even realizing it was beyond him.

"I have no idea how you are doing it, Jenna," he said, his eyes intense on hers. "How are you making me feel like anything is possible? Like the whole world belongs to me."

His words, the way he said them, gave Jenna a jolt. The look on his face filled her stomach with glowing warmth and it started to spread all over her body as if wrapping her in a soft cocoon on the inside. Her breath hitched in her throat, basically leaving her floating somewhere in between.

"Well, maybe because with some effort and a great deal of compulsion I can actually make it happen?" She supposed with as much nonchalance as she could muster, fighting to keep her voice steady. Then laughed and brushed her fingers through his hair when he snorted.

"Don't give me the ideas," Ric warned her.

"I have some good ones," Jenna grinned.

With his brows cocked up. "I'm sure you do," Alaric murmured. "Wanna share?"

And then he all but groaned when his phone let out a string of high pitched demanding shrills, cutting them both off.

"I'm going to kill him," Alaric sighed, reaching into the pocket for his cell. For a moment or two, he contemplated ignoring the phone call altogether. God knew, Damon could use a nice trip to hell every now and then.

But then a responsible man inside of him – the one Alaric hated sometimes – rose its head, and he flinched when a pang of guilt shot through him. What if it was something…? Well, something he didn't want to put into words yet. What if something happened, and—

"I hate you, Damon," he informed the vampire without greeting. Kept his free hand around Jenna, holding her close.

"_Nice_," Damon scoffed on the other end of the line. "_Is that how you answer your phone all the time?_"

"No, only when it comes to people with the worst timing," Ric pointed out. "What do you want?"

It didn't go past him that Jenna went totally still beside him, listening carefully. He wished he could keep her out of whatever it was this time.

"_Am I interrupting something?_"

"Why don't you cut to the point?" Alaric sighed and ran a soothing hand up and down Jenna's back under her jacket. "What happened this time?"

"_Why do you always have to assume that something happened?_" And his overly cheerful voice was what gave Damon away.

"Because you don't normally call to have a small talk, perhaps?" Ric offered.

"_So, I can skip the small talk?_"

"Damon—"

"_Okay, okay, just let me know when your sense of humor is back, man._"

"If will be gone permanently if you don't tell me right now why are you ruining my night."

"_Whatever_," Damon huffed, and if the tone of the voice could possibly express a roll of the eyes, his came to it as close as it went. "_Do you have any experience in deciphering the witchy writings?_"

"Witchy?" Alaric's brows come together in confusion. "I think you dialed the wrong number. Shouldn't you be calling Bonnie for it, no?"

There was a short pause on the line. "_Yeah, about that… There is a problem_." There is always a problem, Alaric thought. "_She's clueless_." Yes, that could be qualified as a big one. "_And it is kind of important._" When wasn't it? "_Who knew that Bonnie wasn't all knowing as she always claims to be?_"

"_Shut up,_" Bonnie told him mildly somewhere in the background.

Alaric chuckled.

"_Anyway_," Damon continued, ignoring her completely by the looks of it. "_I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't a big deal, Ric. Trust me, the last thing I want is to have a wrath of your girlfriend downing upon me, which I can see coming in three… two…_"

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Jenna rolled her eyes.

"_See?_"

"I am hanging up in three… two…" Alaric made a theatrical pause for effect.

"_God, you are boring_." Damon informed him before continuing, "_But fine, you call the shots, Mr. Saltzman. Would you like to join us at your place for a night of poker and beer? Which, sadly, stands for "dusty books and bad coffee"._"

Alaric froze, all the air is basically sucked out of his lings. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Join you _where_?" He asked uncertainly.

"_Your bachelor pad_," Damon repeated patiently as he made a circle around the room, the sound of his footsteps oddly clear in the world that suddenly zoomed in to the size of a pinhead. "_Don't worry, Klaus is not here. He left it clean and empty._" Damon paused. "_Although I would definitely blame Katherine for clearing up your liquor cabinet. That's why I thought we'd end up drowning in coffee instead since I couldn't find anything else here. Unless the expired milk also counts._"

Alaric could almost feel the wheels in his brain turning.

The thought was pretty hard to wrap his mind around. He hadn't been to his place in a few weeks already. Namely – ever since he woke up there with the worst of headaches known to humankind and a black hole in his memory, surrounded by a bunch of vampires and a young witch who turned out being Luke Martin's sister. The crowd that only left him alive after he served his purpose as Klaus's puppet so that he could deliver a message.

Everything that had happened afterwards successfully kept his mind off of his apartment whatsoever. He didn't think much of it or of his stuff that he had left behind seeing as how it wasn't nearly as important as having everyone he cared about alive and safe. He didn't even know – neither of them did – whether Klaus left it or not, or where he was residing now.

Somehow, the idea of going back there was if a little unsettling on a few levels. It felt pretty much like having something stable turned upside down all over again.

"_Here, wait a second,_" Damon muttered. "_What?_" which obviously wasn't addressed at Ric.

"_Hey_," it was suddenly Bonnie at the speaker, and her voice was genuinely apologetic. "_Look, I am sorry for bothering you, Ric, but we could really use some help here. Otherwise certain someone would never get out of my hair._" Okay, she did seem to be a bit cranky, too, definitely not at all happy about the situation. But Alaric honestly couldn't blame her for it. "_Please?_"

There was a muffled noise of struggle before Damon's voice reappeared. "_What she said_."

So, it didn't look like he could dance gracefully out of it. Alaric let out a long exasperated breath. So much for one normal night, huh? Okay, really, he should have known better than considering anything in Mystic falls normal per se. Problem was, Damon wasn't the one to panic and freak out easily. Of them all, he would always be the one to keep his cool until the end. So, if something was up, it was a serious something, and it was probably in their better interests not to dismiss it, regardless of how much he'd love to. And this fake easiness in the vampire's voice was basically a direct proof of it.

"Can you at least tell me what it is about?" Alaric asked, giving up at last.

"_And ruin the surprise? No way!_" And then, "_Get your ass here, Ric. I swear we'll have fun._"

"_Yeah, right_," Bonnie muttered darkly, not at all convinced. Apparently, her understanding of fun was as different from Damon's as it was possible.

"Okay, listen…" Ric paused, his mind working feverishly. "I'll drop Jenna off at the boarding house and be there in about… I don't know, half an hour?"

"_Great! Hey, can you grab—_"

Alaric hung up before the vampire had a chance to finish. God help him, but if Damon asked him to get some beer on his way, he'd sure as hell turn off his cell and forget about the whole thing for good.

"I'm sorry." He stuffed his phone back into the pocket and looked apologetically at Jenna. "Apparently, something's got up Damon's ass. Again."

"Can I go with you?"

He considered it, but then shook his head. "It'll probably be boring…" Yeah, like she was going to ever buy that. Her face said just as much, "I will feel better if you stay at the boarding house, Jenna." Ric admitted. "It is safer there."

Thin ice.

Her eyes narrowed. "So, you're saying it may not be safe?"

"No." Alaric fiddled a little with the lock of her hair before looping it around her ear. "I just… I don't like the idea of you being in the place that half of the vampires in town can freely walk into."

"If you're trying to make it sound even worse, you're moving in the right direction," Jenna noted.

"Damon's going to be there—"

"And since when is it any consolation?"

Okay, she had a point. "Bonnie is going to be there." He made a face, which pretty much covered everything he felt about the idea.

Jenna huffed, scolding him a little. "Okay, fine!" She shook her head. "But you still owe me a proper date," she poked him in the chest with her finger.

"Deal," Alaric chuckled. "Come on." He nudged her towards his silver Chevrolet that was parked half a block down the street, and draped his arm over her shoulders as they walked, his lips brushed against the top of her head. "I promise it won't be long."

They drove in silence. Jenna took her time to fiddle with the radio controllers until she found Bruce Springsteen and let the sounds of "Secret Garden" fill the air. None of the commented on that choice, but it did sound both ironic and oddly appropriate.

Alaric stopped the car right before the front door. The light was on in most of the windows of the house, and it looked ridiculously comforting. The antique lantern near the heavy door was spilling a pool of pale light. It was as good as safety went these days. It felt good.

He let the car idle without killing the engine and turned in his seat.

"Jenna, are you going to be fine?"

"Are _you_ going to be fine?" She pressed, eyebrows arching, before offering him a smile.

"I hate all this, you know," he shook his head and looked out the windshield for a moment before returning his glance back to her. "I hate knowing that you're in the middle of this mess. I hate all this being so damn crazy."

"I know." Jenna grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him down until their lips met, brushing hers gently against his mouth before deepening the kiss that left them both breathless. "You absolutely sure you can't ditch Damon and stay?"

"Tempting, but—" Alaric shook his head.

Her eyes glittering in the dim light searched his face for a moment. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Scout's honor. Save some cotton candy for me."

"I will."

She slipped out of the car and waved him one last time before pulling the front door open, her head still a little foggy. Mostly from the kiss, she suspected. Jenna shook her head and attempted to wipe an idiotic grin off of her face with limited success.

The first person that she saw upon entering the boarding house was Jeremy. Humming something under his breath, he emerged from the parlor with a phone in one hand and some leaflet in another. He stopped short and snapped his head up in alert at the sound of the closing door, and then a huge lopsided smile spread all over his face at the sight of Jenna as he looked at her through the unruly mane hanging over his eyes. Boy, he needed a haircut.

"Hey, Jer," she smiled back at him. "What's going on?"

"We're calling for pizza. You in?"

"How dare you ask that?" Jenna shook her head with reproach. "Extra cheese."

"Don't forget about pepperoni!" Caroline shouted from living room.

"And bread sticks!" Stefan added.

"What's the occasion?" Her brows arched as she walked down the corridor towards the kitchen.

"Dinner." Jeremy followed her suit.

"Fair enough."

"What's with the cotton candy?"

"Sudden urge for a sugar rush. Apparently, I miss being twelve." Jenna pulled the fridge door open and reached for a water bottle, noting mentally that she needed to find time to go downstairs and get a blood bag before the nagging feeling someone deep inside of her which she knew was a sign of hunger grew stronger. Thoughtfully, she studied the shelved. "Did you know that we have five bottles of salad dressing and nor a single thing to make salad from?"

"Uh-huh. That's why we opt for delivery," Jeremy shrugged. "Oh, hey," he said into the receiver when someone of the other side picked up the phone. "I'd like to order three big pizzas." Paused for a moment. "No, wait, make it four…. Extra cheese…" He listed all the demands. "Thanks. Twenty minutes." The last part was said to Jenna.

"Good. I'm starving."

She emptied her bottle of water into a tall glass and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. All the time Jeremy was studying her speculatively.

"Her, Jenna, is it cool?" He asked after some hesitation. "To be a vampire, I mean?"

She looked thoughtfully at her apple for a moment, considering. "Pretty much," she admitted, smiling. "It's like being a super hero, basically. Without having to save the world and stuff." He grinned at that, and for some reason it made her smile fade. Not his excitement maybe, but the very fact that they were having this conversation at all. "Would've been better if I didn't feel like I am failing you mom just by talking to you. By, you know, being me."

Jeremy's amusement dropped immediately as well. He looked at her with the seriousness Jenna had never seen before. Probably because she had never thought to look for it, not knowing how much he matured in the past few months, how much he had to go through. And she didn't have the slightest idea about most of it. It struck her then that he wasn't her baby nephew anymore, and for some reason it hurt a little, as if she somehow missed the in-between moment, and all of a sudden it now seemed to be really important.

"You're not failing anyone, Jenna," he told her in the voice the implied that he believed his words. "Sometimes things just… happen. You're not to be blamed for them. We are. Our lives, all of this… it would've been a thousand times worse if you weren't around."

"Well," she cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the subject, with the situation in general. He didn't seem quite comfortable either, if shifting from foot to foot and looking around as though this kitchen was the most interesting place on earth was any indication. "At least I know for sure that I can totally kick your ass now if you fail your classes or something." She hurried to bring the conversation back to the familiar territory, which he seemed to be endlessly grateful for. At least the line of his shoulders that looked like they were carrying the weight of the world relaxed a little. "Speaking of, how's school?"

Jeremy chuckled, offering her a lopsided smirk. "How would I know?" He drawled somewhat teasingly. "You sure see more of my teacher than I do."

Jenna's eyes narrowed. "I did mention the kick your ass part, right?"

"You really want to talk school?"

"We're keeping thing normal," she informed him, nodding. "So, if you don't want to talk school, we can talk about you and you sister getting grounded, which, trust me, is the first thing on my to-do list."

His jaw dropped, and he spluttered for a moment or two, staring at her with confusion and disbelief. "Are you serious? Grounded?"

"Grounded?" Another voice echoed as Elena first poked her head in, and then stepped into the kitchen. "Who's grounded?"

"We are, apparently." Jeremy handed her the phone before heading out, his footsteps padding down the carpeted hardwood floor.

Elena followed him with her gaze, then turned to Jenna. "Really? What for?" Jenna looked pointedly at her. Like, _Are you serious?_ "Oh." Elena lost her cool minutely, faltering, all edgy by the moment. She picked a grape and put it in her mouth, out of wish to occupy herself somehow, not sure what else to do.

Jenna sighed a little. She hated making them feel guilty, or obliged, or anything. It wasn't their fault. Well, not entirely at least. None of them made her step right into the trap that Klaus set for her instead of, like, calling back to Elena to verify that it was actually her that asked for help, or Ric, or anyone. Sadly, that very moment the maternal instincts kicked in, full force, and common sense was forgotten.

Sure keeping the secret was what triggered the whole thing in the first place, and Jenna had no idea how she could get over it completely. It would probably always lurk somewhere in the back of her mind. But the last thing she wanted was to make them feel bad about it for the rest of their lives. They were all in mortal danger now. Like, in real, honest to god life and death situation with emphasis on "death", which wasn't the right time to hold grudges or anything. All she truly cared about right now was keeping them safe.

"I'm kidding," Jenna shook her head. "But it is a nice influence tool. So, I might reconsider."

Elena's expression softened. She leaned forward on the counter, propping herself on her elbows. Picked another grape from the bowl. "We're having a movie night." She said, and then arched her brows expectedly.

"Sounds quite amazing."

Elena looked around. "Where's Ric?"

"Running errands with Damon." And before the girl even opened her mouth, "Don't ask. Half the time I don't want to even _start_ thinking about it."

Elena nodded. "How was your romantic getaway?" She asked conspiratorially.

Jenna threw a quick look over Elena's shoulder as if to make sure no one was standing in the doorway and eavesdropping.

"Good." Her smile grew when she leaned across the counter, closer to Elena, her voice going down to a whisper. Elena's brows quirked up. "Okay, it was better than good." She admitted. "Better than great, even." She shook her head letting out a short laugh, and exchanged knowing glances with her niece. "At least until a murderous psychopath decided to pay a visit."

Elena froze instantly, her eyes growing wide and utterly horrified, looking like she had a bucked of ice-cold water poured on her head. "What?" She asked slowly, as if not certain she heard Jenna correctly the first time around. "Klaus was there?"

"Well, I—I'm not sure." Jenna straightened up and ran her hand through her hair, pushing it back. "But someone was, and…" She trailed off helplessly. "I don't know, Elena. I don't know what to think of any of this anymore. We don't know anything, about Klaus and his plans or whatever. And his shadow always hovering over us… it's exhausting. It's exhausting to constantly expect something, not knowing if it is going to happen at all." She let out a long breath. Let them sulk in all this for a few moments. "But – not tonight. Tonight we're going to eat pizza and watch movies, and be normal."

Elena took a breath, bracing herself, then made an effort to relax and nodded in agreement. "As far as normal goes these days,"

"Totally!" Jenna winked at her. She tapped her fingers on the wooden surface of the counter thoughtfully. "We will have to go there some time and pack everything up," she said after a short pause. "At the lake house. I know you hate it. I hate it, too. But all their stuff… it is just sitting there, collecting dust, and…" She shrugged. "It has to be done at some point. No pressure though."

"I know," Elena let out a long breath and chewed on her lower lip. "It's just… It's all that we have left from them." Her voice dropped a little as what she wanted and what she knew needed to be done fought inside of her. "They are fading, you know? All my memories of mom and dad… I'm afraid of losing these small connections I still have, as if one day I wake up and won't be able to remember their faces without looking at the photos. Won't be able to remember anything."

Jenna reached out to cover Elena's hand with hers and squeezed it reassuringly. "You won't." She promised quietly. "I'm sure it will never happen." She froze, her eyes widening. "Oh, god, I forgot—"

"What?"

"I have something for you." She informed Elena with mysterious excitement as the girl watched her with a somewhat cautious expectancy. "At the lake house, I found your mother's journal. In all those boxes stashed in the attic."

"My mother had a journal?"

"There isn't a word about the crazy stuff in it," Jenna said. "But it is just so… Miranda, you know?" She paused for a moment, her voice going down. "I just thought you might like to read it."

"I would absolutely love to." Elena assured her.

"I'll—I'll go get it, before it slipped my mind again." Jenna grabbed her apple and headed out, pausing for a moment in the doorway to say, "Don't start the party without me."

She all but ran upstairs, humming the Springsteen's tune under her breath, her footsteps almost silent on the carpet. She checked her cell phone to find a short text from Ric which expressed as much _My evening sucks_ and _I'd rather be somewhere else_ as emoticons allowed. Smiling, she typed a quick reply and hit 'send' as her hand pushed the door open.

The room that the Salvatores spared for them was dark, illuminated only by nearly full moon hanging high in the pitch black sky, its light filtering through the curtains that flailed slightly in the breeze coming from the half open window Jenna didn't bother closing this morning.

She reached out to flip the switch and turn on the light, feeling happy once again for that spur of a moment last minute decision to grab her sister's diary before heading back to Mystic Falls after that disaster of a weekend. Buried under a whole load of other stuff at the very bottom of the box Jenna nearly dismissed, it was destined to never be found, perhaps. She was glad she checked it out though. God knew, it wouldn't hurt Elena to find out about some normal aspects of her mother's life, which Jenna suspected she didn't think Miranda had.

The lights didn't come to light, however, making Jenna freeze in the doorway as cold hand of fear clutched her insides, knocking all air out of her lungs and almost making the ground sway beneath her feet. It was wrong - was the first thought that crossed her mind. So wrong she could feel it with her skin.

And then it got worse when someone turned on the reading lamp by the bed, almost blinding her with the glare because it happened so suddenly. Jenna blinked, torn between screaming, running and just trying to keep breathing. Neither of the options was particularly appealing, to be honest. Especially when her eyes focused on the man standing there, watching her with blank composed face that didn't give out even the smallest fraction of emotion.

Elijah.

**To be continued…**

* * *

><p>….and please let me know what you think! Thank you!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** Hey, look who is still alive! And with the hugest update ever. Well, maybe not EVER, but it's still… quite a lot. I apologize in advance for a lot of letters and words here. I honestly tried to break it or make it shorter. But I either didn't try hard enough, or it just wasn't possible – guess it's for you guys to decide.

**irishcookie**, again, I am glad we have so much in common when it comes to TVD :) Thank you for your review and your nice words!

And again, thank you all, guys, for your patience and support, it means a lot, and I really appreciate it!

Feel free to dig in :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 <strong>

Alaric pushed the door open and stepped inside after a short hesitation.

His apartment looked both familiar and utterly foreign at the same, although he couldn't quite place the reason for the latter.

He had moved in here right after arriving at Mystic Falls a few months ago. Well, right after finding out that staying at the motel was basically suicidal, in terms of comfort as well as finances. And he liked the place which was just as close to his idea of "home" as it went after Isobel's disappearance and his life turning into a cycle of "research-revenge". It was big and spacious, with one of the living room windows offering him the most amazing sunset view ever.

Alaric wasn't attached to it, not in a common _This is my home_ way. Not like he felt about the one-storey two bedroom house he used to share with his wife. But it was nice to have a place of his own, a place that didn't have memories lurking in the corners and cutting him in pieces with ice-cold blades whenever he dared to approach them. A place he wanted to return to instead of running away from it out of fear to start falling apart. A place that was comfortable and nice even despite the fact that he still had two unpacked boxes in the closet and zero sentimental touches on the shelves and walls. A place where his frozen soul began to thaw at last.

Yet, it had never felt as unfamiliar and unwelcoming as it did the moment his foot crossed the threshold, and all the things he tried to never think about came rushing back in, flooding his mind. The memory of what he honestly believed back then was the last moments of his life was definitely not what he liked dwelling on.

Everything looked almost like before, he thought. His books were lying in stacks on the table, a pile of bills and other correspondence was dumped near the books, and he noted absently that he'd have to go through it. The clock he picked up in the antique shop ticked softly on the wall. Even the comforter was draped over the chair in the living room in seemingly exact way it normally had been when he lived there on permanent basis.

But at the same time something felt different. Something that any other time Alaric would have dismissed without so much as second thought. Bow he simply couldn't help it. He couldn't help associating everything around him with pain, betrayal and fear. This very moment, his only home of the past few years was nothing but a storage place for some vague memories and the stuff he'd have to take care of at some point. A pang of sadness surged through him at the realization, making him feel like he was hanging somewhere in between once again.

Damon was pacing in the living room when Alaric walked in, his brows furrowed and his chin set firmly, which never was a good sign. Unlike Ric, he didn't seem to be merely bothered by having to stay at the place that just recently was occupied by the _baddest_ vampire in the history of… well, in the history, period. Nor did he seemingly care about beating a path in the carpet.

Bonnie was standing by the counter that separated kitchen area from the living room, a scatter of papers and a couple of books lying before her as she tapped the pencil impatiently on the countertop. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and the look on her face was the one of deep concentration.

They both stopped their pacing and tapping and snapped their heads up at the sound of the closing door.

"Finally," Damon all but rolled his eyes.

"Nice to see you, too," Alaric sneered back.

Bonnie, however, heaved a sigh of relief, her shoulder slumping somewhat as the tension let go of her body. "Thanks for coming, Ric," she breathed out, and by the looks of it, she actually meant it.

Ignoring Damon, Alaric headed straight to the counter, still not quite certain why they would need him there. What he was sure of was that he didn't want to know it, he thought grimly. Whatever it was this time, he so didn't want to have anything to do with it. Frowns and stiff expressions never meant anything good in Mystic Falls.

"What happened?" He asked addressing no one in particular after throwing a quick sidelong glance at some symbols drawn on the paper in plain black marker.

"Ritual murder," Damon responded instantly. Clearly, being ignore wasn't his thing.

Yes, his words did the job. They were enough to catch Alaric's full and undivided attention. "What?" He asked carefully. Oh boy, like they weren't in deep enough shit already.

"You don't know that," Bonnie pointed out with reproach. "We don't know that," she repeated, turning to Alaric. "It can be something entirely different."

"Like what?" Damon asked with pointed patience in his voice as if talking to someone intellectually incompetent.

"I don't know," she replied, mimicking his tone.

"Let's follow the rule then – if you can't offer any other bright ideas, don't rain on the ideas of someone else."

Bonnie glared at him. "What_ever_."

Standing between the two of them, Alaric rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Would anyone _please_ explain to me what the hell is going on here? What are you talking about? What ritual murder?"

Both Damon and Bonnie dropped the attitude minutely, losing whatever desire to banter they had. They exchanged worried looks, which for some reason was even more unsettling because it meant that they actually agreed on something, and the two of them never agreed on anything unless it was a really big deal, in a _horrible disaster_ kind of way.

"Sheriff Forbs called me a few hours ago," Damon started at last, heaving a theatrically exasperate sigh, and filled Alaric in on the recent events, not yet covered by the evening news.

Ric took his time to process the information. It was something new. And quite unexpected. Not that there was such thing as unexpected about their lives these days, of course, but of all things that he expected – and feared to hear – this was the least anticipated.

He picked up one of the drawings and studied it thoughtfully, taking in every detail as he turned the paper to the right and to the left, as if looking for a better angle. Sadly, it was making just as much sense as a shapeless smudge of dirt.

"You sure you got it right?" He asked Damon, skeptical. The vampire gave him the look. "Fine, whatever," Ric muttered.

"Rings a bell?"

"All bells are silent." Alaric sighed, then looked at both of them in turns before finally fixing his gaze on Bonnie. "Why did you even think it has something to do with the witches?" Not that he had other theories, but the question basically begged to be asked.

"It—looks like something from the Grimoir. Kind of." She answered if a little hesitantly as a shade of uncertainty flashed across her features. "It was Damon's idea." The girl faltered for a moment. "But I have to agree, there is a definite pattern."

"But you never saw anything like that before?" Alaric inquired.

"Not that I remember," Bonnie sighed and raked her fingers through her hair. "There is, like, a hundred of Grimoirs left after the Martins. I flipped through some of them, but before the sacrifice I was only looking for the information about the hybrids and the curse, so even if I saw anything similar to those," she nodded towards the drawings, "I never paid attention."

"Are you saying you didn't memorize them all right away?" Damon gasped. "Shocker!"

"Shut up," Bonnie told him mildly without even looking his way. "There might be something in them," she continued, speaking strictly to Alaric. "But I am not sure."

Alaric considered her words. "Where are they? The Grimoirs."

"Still at the house where—" She stuttered.

_Where I was stuck during the sacrifice when Klaus killed Jenna_, he finished bitterly in his mind. It was kind of sensitive topic neither of them was willing to address much these days, the subject still more than a little sensitive.

"Where a hundred of dead witches had been holding a grudge for almost a century and a half," Damon chipped in.

"Yeah, that's one way to call it," Bonnie muttered under her breath. "Anyway, I'm going to go there tomorrow and see if I can find anything, but—" she puckered her lips thoughtfully. "It would really help to know a little bit more about _why_, you know? Otherwise it'd be like searching for a needle in a haystack. I need something to start with."

"And of course we know it but we wouldn't tell you because of how bad we are," Damon snickered. "You know what's the best way to find a needle in a haystack? To set the haystack on fire."

This time Bonnie ignored him altogether.

"Any idea on who could do this?" Alaric asked if a little helplessly.

"Klaus," Damon shrugged rather matter-of-factly as if it was the only possible answer to this question.

"Yeah, because it is so smart to run around leaving maimed bodies behind—"

"And wasn't it what he'd been doing from the start?"

"—And because he's obviously a sucker for secret messages," Alaric finished with a great deal of skepticism. "Don't you think it's too much even for him?"

"How would I know? He compelled, like, half of the town to play his games. For all I know, he might be doing it just for the hell of it to prove his point or something."

"I still don't see the point." Alaric shook his head. "I mean Klaus had already made it clear that he can come and do whatever he wants without wasting his time on some cheap shows."

"Cheap shows?" Damon's eyebrows shot up and disappeared under the bangs hanging over his forehead. "Two people died. Don't you have any respect for human life anymore, Ric?"

Alaric scolded him. "You know what I am talking about."

"You think it's someone else?" Bonnie frowned, her fingers tapping nervously on the counter.

"I don't know," Alaric rumpled his hair with his hand. "It can be anyone. It can be Klaus or someone acting on his behalf. Or it can be a new player that we have no idea of… yet. Because this town is like one big freaking playground for everything supernatural." He huffed. "All I'm saying is that—is that we better keep our eyes open for all possibilities."

"Which brings us right back to square one," Damon breathed out. He leaned over the counter. Five symbols that might have as well been some sort of a joke. He felt stuck, and he hated it. "Well, they were sucked out dry," he pointed out going back to the victims.

"Which means that the symbols have nothing to do with the witches," Bonnie noted.

"Right, because witches never work with the vampires," Damon agreed mockingly. "Not that we've heard of any such thing before, anyway. Anyone wants to break the news to Greta Martin?"

"Working and… sharing stuff is different."

"Unless threatened," the vampire flashed her a thousand watt smile, making her roll her eyes in frustration.

"Trust you to know the only way of communication." Young witch rubbed her eyes. "Okay, what _is_ your point, smart-ass?"

"Well," Damon straightened up, made a pause for better effect and then dropped the bomb, "How about a vampire witch?" He looked at Ric and Bonnie in turns.

Alaric cocked up an eyebrow.

Bonnie let out a short snicker. "Yeah, right." She regarded the vampire with _Unimpressed_ glare. "It's impossible."

"The vampire-slash-werewolf hybrid kind of impossible?"

"It's against any laws of nature," she pressed. "Witched can't be turned."

"And once again – vampire-slash-werewolf hybrid sounds familiar?"

Bonnie let out a long breath, making it look like she was insanely tired of having to deal with mental retards all the time. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"But… it's possible?" Alaric focused at her, obviously torn between "yes" that would indeed complicate their lives even more, and "no" that would leave them without any plausible answer whatsoever. It was sort of really hard to choose between two bads when neither of them was merely appealing.

For a few moments, Bonnie just watched the two of them with a rather unreadable expression. It sucked to know that she couldn't say anything they would actually like.

"To be honest, I have no idea," she admitted. "The only thing I'm sure of is that it had never happened before. But then again, Klaus is the only hybrid known to history, so…" She trailed of, shrugging.

"Okay, okay." Alaric rubbed his eyes, feeling like his head started to spin and ache. "We'll look into it, explore all possibly scenarios… hopefully before someone else gets hurt." Because dealing with Klaus obviously wasn't enough to do the trick and keep them all entertained. He was getting seriously sick of it.

"You sure you don't know anything about any of this?" Damon asked him again with definite hope in his voice.

"Well, I'm flattered by your high opinion of my knowledge, Damon, but a couple of years ago I honestly believed that you and your kind were nothing but a figment of someone's sick imagination—"

"Ouch! Thanks, dude!"

"—and yes, up until recently, everything related to witches was nothing but folklore to me. I'd like to be helpful. But not in this case." Adding in a whoosh of breath, "and it sucks."

"Tell me about it," Damon glared at his own drawings as if they were the cause of this mess-up.

All of them were silent for a while, until Alaric spoke again, "I do, however, have some books here on the origins of myths and legends in different cultures where, I presume, all the witch-related stuff comes from in the first place." He nodded towards the shelves in the corner of the living room, stuffed from floor to ceiling. His gaze shifted from Damon to Bonnie. "We could check them out… just to be sure."

Slowly, the girl nodded, "I'll take a look."

And to Alaric it looked like she actually wanted to have something to do, as opposed to holding back from wanting to set Damon's brain on fire for god knows how long, which he could see bright and clear in her eyes.

"Knock yourself out," Damon offered her generously, which was probably _that_ close to making the her change her mind about the frying his brain thing. She got some points for not commenting it in any way, though.

"So, how did you know?" Alaric asked quietly when Bonnie was out of the earshot.

"Know what?"

"That Klaus wasn't here anymore."

"Katherine," the vampire said at last rather unwillingly. "She used to be stuck here, as you may know. We hadn't heard a word from her after the sacrifice. So, I came by to see…" He cut off. "I had no idea if she took off, or if Klaus decided to keep her as his pet, or whatever." He gave Alaric a mildly disinterested look. "Call it curiosity."

"So?"

"So what? The place was empty, obviously, save for the layer of dust, which, I assumed, meant that they had left." Another shrug.

Alaric processed his words, then nodded. "And what about Katherine?"

"Gone. Unless she's still hiding in the closet somewhere." Damon's brows furrowed as though he actually considered the possibility of Elena's ancestor doppelganger sitting another Ric's shirts and pants, not quite putting it past her. "No goodbye note either. I'm going to hold it against her for another century and a half, perhaps."

"I'm giving you one hundred and forty six years to get over it," Alaric chuckled humorlessly.

"We'll see," Damon mused.

"Do you—Damon, do you think he killed her? You think Klaus killed Katherine?"

The question hung heavily in the air for a painfully long minute as they listened to the buzzing of the fridge and to Bonnie flipping the pages on the other side of what served as living room, dining room and kitchen, combined.

"Not that I care," the vampire breathed out at last.

Alaric wanted to push a little, to remind him that Damon was the one to supply Katherine with vervain so that she could resist Klaus's compulsion., He was the one to kind of look out for her when he didn't have a single reason to. But in the end he chose to keep it to himself and let Damon to decide whether he wanted to talk about it or not. Besides, telling any of this to him would mean being a hypocrite. After all, he was the one who hoped to see some humanity in Isobel even when he knew there was none. So who the hell was he to judge?

"Yeah." Alaric stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket out of wish to do something with them, restless and antsy. Then murmured, starting towards Bonnie, "Let's—let's just get this over with."

* * *

><p><em>Okay. Elijah. Don't panic. Just don't panic. <em>

_Rrrrright!_

"Hello, Jenna," he greeted her in that calm and composed voice that she got used to associating with him.

Jenna swallowed hard, her mind racing.

Downstairs she could hear the voices and what probably was some video-game. They were laughing and snorting and teasing. Someone reached into the fridge and moments later a can of soda popped open. The doorbell rang, echoing through the entire house, which most likely announced the arrival of pizza. A chorus of voices shouted at the same time for someone to go get it.

Here, upstairs, it was quiet. And it felt like some other place, some other life. Like she couldn't be here and there at the same time. Like once she crossed the line, she couldn't go back anymore.

Jenna's first instinct was to run, and scream, and do _something_ instead of just standing there and gawking at him. She still couldn't quite wrap her mind around the fact that Elijah was one of the Originals. That he, of all people, was the one with the closest connection to Klaus. His bother. And, despite better judgment, she felt hurt. She knew it was all a lie now. His book, his research or whatever. It was nothing but another scheme to get closer to Elena, seeing as how they all needed her so much. It was yet another thing on that endless list of lies Jenna was thrown in her face.

With Elijah, however, it was twice as bad on some level. Most of people around her – Jeremy, Elena, even Ric – claimed to have been keeping the truth a secret out of wish to protect her, to keep her life normal. And as much as she hated the lies, and secrets, and people hiding things from her, Jenna had to admit deep inside that had their roles been reversed, had she been given a chance to keep her loved ones out of this craziness… well, she wasn't sure she'd be all that enthusiastic about revealing these secrets if only because she wouldn't want anything like what she knew now poured onto someone else. If it was up to her, if only she could protect Elena and Jeremy from all of this, she'd most likely choose to do so. Maybe. It was one of those questions she wasn't sure she could answer.

Elijah, though, didn't keep anything from her out of good intentions. He used her. He used Carol Lockwood and God knows who else in this town because he was interested in Elena, and it was something entirely different. It didn't hurt nearly as much as finding out that her entire family had been lying to her all her life, obviously. But it hurt nonetheless. Maybe not the very fact of his betrayal, but knowing that she'd been made fool of and that she let him do it.

And now he was there, standing by the bed in her room, which wasn't all that comfortable after she found out that Klaus was apparently after her one way or the other. What if he sent his brother to fetch her for him or something?

The thought pushed her to reach for the doorknob. _Run_.

Something must have changed about her face, revealing her conflicted feelings and rather obvious intentions, because Elijah cocked his eyebrow ever so lightly.

"I wouldn't," he said quietly, basically reminding Jenna that in terms of strength and experience they were like an ant and an elephant.

Yeah, she wouldn't, Jenna realized. Because going out there would mean putting everyone in that house in danger as well. Who knew what lengths Elijah would go to do… whatever he came here for?

Jenna's fingers flexed harder around the doorknob, so hard it seemed she'd crash it in her palm. But she didn't push the door open. She just needed something to hold on to.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice barely audible in the thick silence that suddenly downed on them.

For a moment, it seemed to her that the entire world ceased to exist. It narrowed down to this room and this room only, Elijah's patient gaze and her own frantic heartbeat.

He studied her face in the dim light for a few moments. His own expression blank and impossible to read. It made Jenna feel like a chicken on the plate. Like a convict waiting for a verdict. Freedom? Mild punishment? Life sentence? Death?

There was something about him, however, that kept her from jumping head first into a full-blown panic mode. Jenna couldn't quite put her finger on what it was or why she even thought about it, but she had to admit that even now, even knowing who and what he was, she didn't feel the same threat and violence coming from him as she did with Klaus on the night of sacrifice. But then again, it could only mean that Elijah was better than his brother in masking things. She chose not to trust it. What she knew for sure was that by being in that room, he totally shattered whatever hope she had about Klaus's interest being a mistake of some sort.

"It's nice to catch you alone," Elijah spoke. "Not an easy thing these days. Mr. Saltzman seems to always be around."

Jenna tensed instantly, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Leave Ric out of it," she told him without realizing how much warning her voice bore.

Because being suicidal was on her to-do list today, by the looks of it.

Elijah dismissed her voice and her tone though. "I have no intention of bringing him into anything," he assured her.

It wasn't easy to keep her voice firm and steady, but she did her best to at the very least try. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk."

_To talk?_ Puzzled, she frowned. It was a ploy, a trap he set to lure her in before he could lock the door and keep her inside, she was sure of it. Jenna took an involuntary step back. Not to run but to just have as much distance between the two of them as circumstances would allow.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Jenna," Elijah told her, her movement obviously not going unnoticed. "I am no threat to you. In fact, I think I can help."

His words almost made her let out a short bark of a laugh, raw and humorless. She managed to hold it back, mostly, as a small gurgled noise escaped her throat.

"Right." Bitter, but _that_ was beyond her control. "Help." It wasn't even funny. It was quite pathetic. Did he really think she was _that_ much of an idiot? "Because I have, like, a million of reasons to trust you."

Elijah considered her words, and then nodded. "Let's put it this way – you don't have to trust me. I believe I don't have any right to ask that from you. But I think you would want to hear me out."

_No, I don't, and I won't_, she wanted to say, but something made her swallow her words.

"What I want is for you to leave me alone. All of us."

"Jenna! Are you coming?" Elena's voice cut them off, breaking through the wall between here and there, bursting the bubble and letting all the sounds flood back in, filling the silence and emptiness around the two of them.

Elijah didn't say anything, waiting for her to response.

Jenna pulled the door open a tiny bit wider, let the light from the corridor pool inside the room. "Yes, I'll—" she started but her throat felt dry and she faltered and swallowed before shouting back, "Give me a sec. I'll be right there." Her eyes fixed on Elijah's face once again. "Get out."

Her voice betrayed her after all, quivering a little, but she held her chin up, firm and determined, at least as much on the outside she as she could muster when she didn't felt even half of it on the inside.

"Obviously, not here," Elijah nodded, totally ignoring her command as though he didn't hear it at all. "Tomorrow at four in Mystic Grill."

Baffled, Jenna gaped for a moment or two. "You don't seriously expect me to buy it, do you?" She asked at last with apparent disbelief.

Elijah's lips twitched a little, she saw a spark of humor flare in his eyes. "I expect you to be smart enough not to wave it off."

And then he was gone, just like that. The only sign of him even being there was a light sway of curtains on the window he used as escape route and a fine whiff of expensive and rich perfume hanging in the air.

* * *

><p>The house was quite and dark when Alaric made it back after dropping Bonnie off at her father's place. She chose to drive with him instead of Damon, causing the vampire to mutter something about being friends forever and trust issues and other things the young witch promptly ignored. She dozed off in the front seat of Ric's car as they drove down the silent and dark street of the sleeping town. Damon's blue Camarro trailed after them for a while, its headlights almost blinding Ric, beaming rights into the rearview mirror of his car. But the vampire took a turn two blocks before they reached their destination and disappeared in the night.<p>

He turned down Damon's generous offer to go to the Grill and get wasted, and now regretted it a little. God help him, but having to deal with the supernatural was the surest thing to become an alcoholic in this town, regardless of how tempting it was, if only because a certain amount of bourbon was making the things look somewhat normal.

Sleepily, Bonnie tumbled out of the car when he parked and mumbled vague thanks, which, he assumed, only referred to the drive, not the exciting and pretty much fruitless evening that ended with them deciding to check the remaining Grimoirs after all. Then again, who would blame her? He doubted it was her idea of high school fun. And to be honest, he fully shared her opinion. He waited for the girl walk up the porch steps, open the door and turn on the lights in the hall before starting the car again.

The streets were quiet and empty, everyone long asleep. Not a sound, Alaric noted, and found himself peering into the shadows, subconsciously struggling to see what could be hiding in the dark, waiting for the prey to come close. Not the most comforting thought at this time of the day, and he stepped harder on gas, making the speed arrow on the dashboard jerk abruptly to the right.

Damon's car was parked on the driveway when he finally reached the boarding house. The windows were dark. Alaric slammed the door close and flinched when the sound scattered all over the yard and echoed in the distance, seemingly carrying out for miles around. Nothing happened, however.

He opened the front door and stepped in. Old floorboards creaked underneath his feet as he walked down the corridor. His lips twitched a little at the sight of pizza boxes and take out bags piled in the corner, the smell of melted cheese and garlic bread still lingered in the air, coming apparently from the living room. He peeked inside curiously, expecting to find someone passed out on the couch. Surprisingly, it was empty. Messy, but empty. It was a shame he missed the party, though. But what the hell?

Shaking his head, Alaric headed upstairs. He paused on the landing, listening ,when it seemed to him he heard something in the depth of the house and peering so intensely into the darkness that his eyes hurt. The silence was almost deafening though. Not a glimpse of a movement, no stir of air. Paranoid much? Must have been one of the sounds the house was full of these days.

Strangely, it wasn't Klaus he feared on the moments like that. The Original vampire wouldn't lurk and stalk and wait. He'd walk right through the front door, leaving a trail of blood behind him, and go for what he wanted to get. Anything lesser than that wasn't his style, or so it seemed. Now, it was more an instinctive fear of the night that downed on him, if only because it was imprinted in all of them on a genetic level, coming from their ancestors who definitely knew better than saying that there were no monsters hiding in the closet or under the bed. Come to think of it, Alaric realized, he'd never be able to say that and actually mean it.

Jenna was curled under the covers when he entered the room and closed the door carefully behind his back, sound asleep by the looks of it. She had left the reading lamp on, though. For him, perhaps. Trying to stay as quiet as possible, Ric kicked off his shoes and then stripped to the t-shirt and boxes before climbing into bed as well. His mind still reeled restlessly, going through everything he'd talked about with Damon and Bonnie over and over and over again. Obviously, they didn't have enough shit to deal with already, so some power-that-be decided to add some more fun to it, he thought grimly. Another murderous psychopath with a secret agenda on the streets of Mystic Falls was exactly what they needed to keep them on their toes. Or to push them all to a mass suicide or something.

Now, that was a bright idea!

Jenna stirred when the bed shifted under his weight.

"Everything okay?" She asked sleepily without actually waking up.

"Hm."

Alaric turned the light off, and then moved closer until his head was lying on her pillow, his face inches away from hers. For a few moments he just watched her before letting out a long breath, his sore muscles letting go of the tension that held him in tight grip at last. It was good to be back, to see her. It was kind of the only thing that could easily compensate whatever crap he'd been going through.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Jenna murmured.

"Maybe some other time."

"Bummer. Might be your only chance. I am too tired to interrogate you, and I probably won't remember a thing in the morning, anyway."

He chuckled before moving closer to press his lips to her forehead on a hushed, "Sleep."

"You missed great pizza and an awful movie," Jenna's voice was muffled and almost inaudible.

"So I figured."

"Are we in trouble?"

Talking about Damon's call, he figured.

"Aren't we always?" Alaric muttered. "Someone died today," he said quietly, more to himself than to her seeing as how Jenna was half asleep already.

"Mm," was the only response he got.

He was sure she didn't even hear him. Not the words at least.

"Someone died for no reason," he continued. "That makes no sense, you know? That makes no sense whatsoever. And the worst thing is? It can happen again. Anytime. Any place."

Alaric swallowed past the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, wondering if he would ever be able to get rid of this horrible metallic taste in his mouth. The taste of fear and dread.

He tried not to think that either of them could be the next but his vivid imagination never failed him when it came to bloodbath scenarios. Whether it was Klaus or someone else… well, it didn't really matter. The very fact did. Which basically made him want to lock them all up somewhere until the end of time. Not that it ever helped anyone, but—

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" He asked softly.

"Your feet are cold," she whispered back.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging up ever so slightly. "Good night, Jenna."

* * *

><p>The moon was full and huge and so bright it almost didn't feel like it was night at all. The wind was smooth and fresh on her face. It was tangling in her hair and making it float behind her back. The grass was cool beneath her bare feet as she walked. God, it felt so good!<p>

Jenna stopped and looked up, taking one deep breath after another. Right before her eyes, the moon above her started turning red, rich purple goo dripping from it as if it was melting. As if it was made of blood. The whole world around her gained reddish undertones, calling for the beast inside of her. It was better that way, Jenna thought. No regrets, no remorse, only freedom and power.

She closed her eyes, listening, sipping it all in. All that power and energy that coursed through her veins were almost burning inside of her. Her whole body tingled with anticipation.

It was better than good. It was magnificent. It was better than anything!

She was fast. She was strong and fearless like never before. And then, there was blood. Blood was everywhere. Who could have thought it would be so wonderful? Thick, and warm, and sweet, and utterly delicious, streaming like liquid silk down her throat and making her head spin. How could one not want this? How could those whose lives she was talking without thinking twice about it live as anything lesser than that?

There was plea and fear in their eyes. Defeat and pain that she spotted distantly. None of these things meant anything to her. Only their taste did.

They all tasted differently.

Jeremy was sweet and innocent. He almost didn't resist, disbelieving until the end. Until his body was nothing but an empty shell, lifeless and still.

Elena was pure and rich like a good wine, and almost as intoxicating. Like she was never enough, and Jenna wondered somewhat vaguely whether it was because the girl was different from the all as well.

Alaric… Alaric tasted like copper, regret and acceptance.

Acceptance… it almost triggered something inside of her. Something from _before_. Something from the time when she was foolish enough to feel things, from before she flipped the switch and let the darkness swallow her.

But it didn't matter now. Nothing did. She could hear the beating of his heart, loud and clear, fluttering in his chest like a caged bird. She could feel the blood running through his body, calling for her. And it was more than she could resist. More than she wanted to resist.

So, she didn't…

"Jenna!"

The voice came from far away and shattered the world around her.

Jenna snapped her eyes open to the darkness and the moonlight streaming through the tall windows. Her heart was racing in her chest with the speed of a thousand miles per second. She was breathing hard, fighting to shake off the images from what appeared to be a dream. They were fading in and out before her eyes, blurred and unfocused.

There was a crimson shade to the world around her as if she was stuck in the photo room. It took would a moment or two to zoom back in, and Jenna realized with horror that her right hand was lying on Alaric's throat and she was holding him like that against the headboard of the bed. She could feel his pulse with her palm, his throat artery so close to the surface that she could almost smell the blood running through it. God, it smelled so good. And her fangs were aiming at it, mere inches away.

The whole situation downed on her like a bucket of cold water.

"Oh my god."

She let go of his throat instantly and scooted as far away from him as the bed would allow without her falling off of it to the floor, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped round them, fingers digging deep onto the sheets as she watched him with terrified eyes. One long breath after another until that fog cleared out of her head. Until the fangs were gone and her human self was back and the reality with its night sounds was in its proper place again.

"Jenna, it's okay," Ric's soothing voice broke through the chaos in her head.

He was looking at her from his spot, worried and confused. Not scared. Oh God, she attacked him in her sleep, and he wasn't even scared. She swallowed uneasily.

The dream… Alaric… the images flashed bright and clear before her mind's eye.

She nearly bit him. What else could she—?

"What did I do?" She stuttered, her teeth chattering. A wave of shiver rolled down her body, making her break into cold sweat. Everything felt wrong and foreign. The room, the house, her own body. Like she didn't belong. Like she got stuck somewhere in between, unable to move, to escape.

"It's okay, honey. Everything's fine." Ric's eyes roamed around her features, searching her face. His voice was low and soft and as soothing as it could be.

"I—" Jenna started, raking her fingers through her messy, tangled from sleep hair. Her gaze shifted and she froze, her eyes grew wide with horror when she spotted red palm-shaped mark on Alaric's neck where she held him. The mark that she knew would turn into an ugly bruise very soon. Her heart plummeted down to the bottom of her stomach that seemed to be made entirely of barb wire. "Oh God, I—I hurt you." She looked up, hopeless, helpless. "Ric, I…"

"It's okay," he repeated before leaning forward.

She tensed all over, watching him with a mixture of panic and confusion, her mind still trapped in the dark, her thoughts a mess. She sucked her breath in, held it as if Alaric's touch could sting, torn between starting to run and curling into a ball. Slowly, her hand crept up to close around her mouth. What did she do? How did it happen?

"No," she mouthed soundlessly, her throat tight and dry.

The crazy swirl of thoughts and images swept through her head like a hurricane, successfully destroying the remains of her sanity and leaving nothing behind. Or at least that was what it felt like for a very, very long moment. Until the chaos finally died out, and her mind went completely blank.

Alaric put his hand on her cheek, angling her face up. "Look at me. Look at me, Jenna." His voice was firm and urgent. She needed to snap out of it, whatever it was. When her eyes focused on his, less glassy and disoriented this time, Ric took her by the wrist and pulled her close to him. "Come here," he murmured. "Everything is okay now."

_Don't! Don't touch me! Don't do it!_ Her first instinct was to resist, to pulled away again and put as much distance between the two of them as planet Earth would allow.

Instead, Jenna complied, sinking into the warmth of his body when his arms wrapped around her. Her eyes fluttered close as she buried her face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. Compared to his composed frame, she could feel now how violently her own body was shaking.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry," she whispered between convulsive intakes of breath, gasping for air as if after being held underwater for too long but not able to fill her lungs properly.

"Shhh," Alaric pressed his lips to her head. "It was just a dream."

"Oh my God, I almost… Ric, I could have…." _bit you, hurt you, killed you_. Her heartbeat accelerated instantly as realization of what could have actually happened sank in, and her breath hitched in her throat practically choking her. The thought made her sick.

Alaric rubbed her back, a comforting gesture that formed a burning lump in Jenna's throat. He let out a soft chuckle. "Don't worry, I wouldn't let you rip my throat out in my sleep… most likely."

"You're really not making it better."

"No, I mean it. I have a couple of stakes right here in the drawer," he assured her. Jenna let out a muffled snort. "Sorry," he grazed his lips against her hair again.

"I hurt you," she repeated miserably.

"I'm fine. Swear to god, never been better."

"Um… you know how wrong that sounds, right?"

They lay in silence for a long time, listening to the faint sounds of the night.

"Want to tell me about it?" Alaric asked quietly after a while.

Jenna waited for a few heartbeats. "No."

She snuggled closer to him searching for comfort in his presence. Comfort she knew she'd never find otherwise. Rested her head on his shoulder and linked her fingers with his, placing their hands on his chest that was rising and falling steadily, his soft breath grazing her skin. Squeezing her eyes tight, Jenna willed her mind to erase any trace of what she'd been dreaming of, but the moment she did it, the darkness closed around her, and all the demons were back.

She snapped them open instantly.

"Okay," Alaric agreed easily, choosing not to push.

She was disturbed and confused, he could sense the waves of uneasiness coming from her in huge tidal waves. He hated it. He hated not being able to do anything, to help. But it was her call, and despite his wish to make everything better for Jenna, trying to pry it out of her would only make her shut him out completely, which was the last thing that he wanted.

Outside, the night was quiet. As if something was waiting patiently, observing.

Jenna sighed softly, her eyes watching distractedly the play of shadows on the wall. She wanted to open up, to tell him all of this. About the dreams she'd been having lately – neither of them as vivid as this one, but still! About all her fears and concerns, if only because she knew he was the one she could talk to, the one who would listen. About Elijah (oh boy, she almost forgot about him and their weird conversation). God, she had to tell Ric about Elijah, and about him wanting to talk to her. But she couldn't. The words just wouldn't come. Instead, they would get stuck in her throat, a thick knot of emotions she couldn't set free.

"Talk to me," Jenna asked in a whisper after a few long moments ticked by, taking one shallow breath after another, struggling to synch her heartbeat with his again, hers racing twice faster than Ric's at this point. "About anything. Please. I need—I need to get it out of my head." Her voice faded.

Alaric let out a long breath, feeling helpless.

"Okay," he repeated stroking her hair slowly as he raked his brain for ideas. Funny how hard it was to find something to say when you were asked to speak about nothing in particular. Well, she asked for anything? He could do anything. "Did I ever mention that I grew up in North Carolina?" He began for lack of a better _anything, _unless he opted for reciting the morning paper or his class curriculum. "My father had been a literature professor in the NC University of Greensboro."

Jenna's breath evened by this moment, and she stopped shaking, so he took it for a good sign. She didn't say anything, so Alaric continued, keeping his voice low.

"Basically, his job and how he loved it was what inspired me to choose academic career as well." He paused, noting absently that he started drawing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. "It wasn't much of a choice, actually. Somehow, it just… happened, you know? It felt right though, so I didn't resist." Ric allowed his mind to drift back, opening the door and letting the memories in. "My parents have been married for thirty eight years now. They still live in the house where I grew up." His hand trailed up and down her back.

"Mom… well, mom had always been _mom_. She used to work part time and volunteer a lot. School events, town events – she'd been everywhere at once. She used to come to all of my baseball games for as long as I was on the team and bring homemade cookies and lemonade."

"She sounds great."

"Yeah, I guess she does," he breathed out somewhat ruefully.

"How comes we never talked about it?" Jenna wondered quietly as she looked up for a moment.

"I don't know." They did cover the basics during these first few half-dates, but that was it. "There was always something else to think of and talk about." He pushed her hair away from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear. "Guess there wasn't much to talk about to begin with. I had a boring life until… well, this."

"No, you hadn't," she assured him, putting her head back down. "Keep going."

Ric let out a half snort, relieved to feel that she finally relaxed. He told her about how they used to spend their summers in the beach house. How every day in the morning he would go fishing with his father. No for the result, but for the process, for the quiet time when they could just sit for hours in comfortable silence. About the kite, and bonfires, and s'mores. About how much fun it was. The images in his head made Alaric smile.

"They both retired a few years ago, and mostly spend their time these days reading and gardening and praying Scrabble. They have a lab called Byron. Dad's influence." He chuckled. "When I was little, they used to have a huge oak tree with the tire swing in the back yard. The tree is still there, but the swing was removed when I fell from it and broke my arm. I was around twelve then. I thought it was cool though, broken arm. I made everyone sign my cast and kept it in my room with all these messages until I moved out." He smiled at her soft scoff.

It was then that the dark cloud crept over him, pressing down on his chest and making it hard to breathe. He rested his chin on top of Jenna's head as if this physical connection was the only thing to keep him in one piece.

"I haven't seen them for almost three years," he confessed in a soundless whoosh of breath. The memories he tried not to turn to caused a pang of guilt, and he needed a moment or two to compose himself back again. Ironically, some of his best memories let right to the things he wasn't quite happy about.

"Why?"

Okay, maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea to veer off in that direction after all. He wanted to make Jenna feel better, not the other way around. But it was pressing on him for so long, it was impossible to keep his feelings bottled up any longer.

"Isobel and I spent Christmas with them… a few months before she—before she had gone missing." His voice dropped when his throat had gone dry and raw as sandpaper.

Too late to back off now, right? The aftertaste of the words, triggered by the memories, made him swallow hard. It was the time when his wife already distanced herself away from him, when she was spending days and night in her office, too consumed by her research. But he dismissed it, secretly admiring her dedication, and looking back at how often she was avoiding his gaze these days was making him feel like a blind fool.

"After that… I don't know, Jenna." He let out a long sigh, somewhat surprised to realize that he hadn't talked about it with anyone, like, _ever_. Surprised to realize how much it was pressing on him. "I couldn't face them. Couldn't see their concern and listen to _I'm-sorry _and_ Everything's going to be fine_. And now… when I know the truth, I can't stand the idea of lying them in the face. But I can't tell them anything either. So, I call them once a week, listen to their news, share as much as I can. They—they seem to understand."

"They sound wonderful, Ric." Jenna told him, almost physically feeling her own dread and fear wash out of her. The suppressed pain in his voice bothered her though, and she added quietly, "You can't keep running forever."

"Funny you should say that now that I finally started to believe that I'm getting good at it. Hey, I can pull that Forest Gump trick and run until I don't want to anymore. What do you think?" His lips quirked when Jenna's laughter vibrated through her body. Alaric sighed then. "Sorry, it wasn't exactly what I wanted dump on you. I shouldn't have started it."

His voice was soft, lulling and soothing, chasing everything bad away. She felt her eyelids getting heavy, her eyes fluttering close for a moment as she fought to stay awake. "No, I'm glad you did. It's sad we never talk about thing like that. About… normal things. Your family. It was… it was a nice insight on how you became who you are now."

"You'd like them, I think," Alaric said when she turned her face up again. Paused and stroked her cheek. "And they would absolutely love you."

Jenna blinked, then sat up suddenly and turned to face him. "I want you to promise me something."

"Sure, anything." He agreed instantly, puzzled and overall tired.

She took a breath. "I want you to promise me that you won't let me hurt anyone."

"It was just a dream—"

"Promise me," she insisted.

"Jenna—"

"Please."

He sat up too, heaving a sing, and locked his eyes with hers, searching her face. "Okay."

"Say it."

"I promise I won't let you go on a killing spree and slaughter half the town," he swore solemnly. "Wait, does it have to be about bad guys as well?"

"Define _bad_." Jenna let out a short chuckling laughter and shook her head. "I'll think about it and give you the list."

* * *

><p><em>Late, late, late! Oh god, I'm so late! <em>

_Coffee! _

The smell of it nearly knocked her off of her feet when Jenna ran into the kitchen and dropped her bag onto the nearest chair, trying to recall feverishly whether she had all of her book and where the hell she put her car keys. Trying to stay awake, period.

She had her first class in half an hour and there was zero chance of her making it there on time. Well, at least without a couple of speeding tickets. Crap, crap, crap! Who was that idiot that invented the snooze button, anyway? It was like a taunting universal evil! Like she wasn't in enough trouble already with her overdue papers and a huge gap on the attendance list. Damn it!

No one could accuse Jenna Sommers of being a morning person. Funny how she used to joke about being a vampire on the inside whenever she had to haul her ass out of bed at the break of dawn.

And yeah, look who is laughing now.

The very idea of coffee was almost intoxicating, and she all but moaned in anticipation. Why would she need any coffee at all, by the way? Wasn't she, like, dead? Wasn't she supposed to be a blood-junkie only? She added the question to the ever-growing list of mysteries she didn't think she'd ever solve. How on earth did her life get so complicated, again?

And why on earth wasn't any of it in some guardianship papers? Wait, there should be some manual, right? And if yes, how was it possible she never got her copy?

In the kitchen, Caroline was standing by the counter with one of Damon's favorite mugs in her hands, sipping her morning dose of caffeine. She looked up and brightened up at the sight of Jenna's hectic appearance.

"Hi!"

"Oh, hey there," Jenna smiled back as she grabbed her own mug – well, the one she considered hers – and filled her with cream and coffee. Boy, it smelled divine! "You here for Elena?" She asked after a small sip that returned the world to its normal place.

"Yep, I'm here ride today," Caroline confirmed. "We don't have first period. Stefan and Bonnie do."

Jenna nodded, sticking two pieces of bread into the toaster. Not that she had time for breakfast—

She paused, took a breath and turned to face the blonde girl.

"Thank you. For taking care of Jeremy and Elena. All of you." She ran her hand through her hair. "I—I don't have enough words to say how much I appreciate it."

"That's what friends are for," Caroline replied with a soft understanding smile.

"And speaking of," Jenna looked around. "Have you seen Jeremy?"

"He's fine," the girl assured her. "He left with Stefan. I'm not entirely sure Jer was awake when it happened though because what I saw looked very much like sleepwalking."

That made Jenna laugh.

"That sounds like him." She took another sip of her coffee, let it settle in her stomach and start spreading all over her insides. Then sighed and asked, "So, you're… too?" It was getting a way too frequent question these days, making Jenna wonder sometimes how many people, exactly, she could ask it without getting weird looks. Too many for her comfort, perhaps.

Caroline put the mug on the counter and looked down for a moment before lifting her eyes up again. "Looks like it." She offered Jenna a small shrug. "It wasn't on my Christmas wish list but it's better than the alternative."

"Which is—?"

"Being dead."

The words did have a special ring to them.

"Well, I definitely see your point here. Um, can I ask you something?"

"Yep, Damon likes to keep his blood stash in the basement because it is his idea of conspiracy." Caroline jumped right on it. "But I keep a few bags here in the back of the fridge not to run back and forth all the time. Besides, that basement is just creepy. Do you have any idea _what_ they keep there sometimes?" She shuddered theatrically. "Not to mention the whole basement issues and ruined clothes and stuff. And I know that blood sucks when it's cold, but trust me, it is so much worse when it is microwaved." An eye-roll for a better effect. "It's disgusting."

Jenna gaped for a moment, then broke into a smile. "That is not exactly what I wanted to know, but thanks for the tip. No microwaves."

"Oh… okay," the girl's brows creased, "what is it then?"

Jenna leaned against the counter, her hands griping it tight on either side of her hips. She chewed her bottom lip, then let out a short shaky laugh, "This is so weird."

"Tell me about it," Caroline shook her head.

Jenna took in a steadying breath. "Have you also had those… um, dreams after you got, you know, turned?" She asked somewhat carefully, as of weighing every word.

Caroline frowned. "Dreams? What kind of dreams?"

_Those that make your worst nightmares look like fairytales_, Jenna thought grimly. To say that the night accident bothered her greatly was a huge understatement. Every time she closed her eyes, she was seeing it all again. She could almost taste the blood running down her throat as if it happened for real, warm and quite amazing. She could feel the life draining out of people she loved. Their eyes, their pleas… they were so bright and clear in her mind that she just couldn't help feeling that they were more real and vivid than her actual life.

It scared her. It scared her more than anything. As of lately, at least. Not the dream itself. She wasn't really surprised by it, not at all. One's mind was known for playing such tricks in response to external stress factors, and, god help her, she had plenty of them. No, the most terrifying thing was that she wanted it all. She craved for their blood, she wanted to flip the stupid switch and give in to the beast nature of not feeling, not thinking, not caring. It was something deep inside of her, lurking, waiting. Something she kept pushing away to keep her human ground but couldn't deny.

It resurfaced now, though. Whether triggered by the dream, or the other way around, Jenna couldn't tell. But it frightened her more than she was willing to admit even to herself. Was it making her dangerous? Was it natural? What if the next time she wouldn't wake up in time? She was strong now, and fast, and lots of other inhuman things she couldn't always control. What if the next time there will be no one to stop her from hurting people she loved?

She could have sucked Alaric dry a few hours ago, and the memory made Jenna shiver.

The younger girl was watching her with a mixture of worry and curiosity, waiting for her to continue, but the end Jenna only shook her head.

"Never mind. I am probably just stressed, and—"

"There you are!" Alaric poked into the kitchen, cutting her off before she got lost in the mess her of her half-formed guesses completely. And probably saving her from Caroline's questions she could already see popping in the younger vampire's head. His eyes fixed on Jenna and a huge grin spread all over his face by the second. "I thought I'd have to call for reinforcements. Like, a pitcher of cold water or something."

The toasts popped out of the toaster. Jenna grabbed one and pointed it at Alaric. "Don't give me a reason to throw these words right back at you."

He snickered good-naturedly, his expression softening. "Oh, hey, Caroline!"

"Morning, Ric," the girl called back.

Alaric turned back to Jenna. "You need a ride or anything?"

"No," she jingled her car keys – that somehow magically reappeared in her pocket, speak of her attention span that equaled to the one of a tea spoon – before his face. "I'm good."

"Okay. I'll call you. Try to make it at least to the second class."

Jenna considered his words. "Well, _that_ I can promise," she said with mock seriousness.

"Good." Alaric bent to give her a quick kiss. Contemplated making it a proper one, but with the audience it would hardly be appropriate. He gave Jenna's hand a quick squeeze before letting go. "Take care, okay?" She nodded.

"Ric?"

"Mm?"

_Tell him! Tell him about Elijah, now! _

"You be careful too, okay?"

"Always." He winked at her. "I'll see you at school, Caroline."

The girl gave him a small wave. "See ya!" She turned to Jenna when Alaric's footsteps faded and the front door closed behind his back. Her eyebrows went up rather pointedly. "I'm glad for you, guys." And her smile stretched at the sight of blush that flashed bright on Jenna's cheeks.

"Yeah," Jenna looked over her shoulder for a moment and then shook her head, unable to hold back her own smile, even though he still wasn't sure she made the right decision. "It's the only thing that makes any sense now."

Caroline cleared her throat. "So," she started carefully, "how are you dealing with… all this?"

Jenna continued to spread strawberry jam on her toast hoping that a brief pause in her movement wasn't too obvious. "Good, I guess," she said and put the toast down to the plate. Put the knife down, too. "Better than I expected. Not that I ever thought I'd have to adjust to being a vampire one day, but…" She trailed off.

Caroline sighed. "I know what you mean." She scrunched her face, grimacing. "Been there."

"Ric insists I keep going like before, like everything's normal. Hence the school." She shot a quick glance at her books. "Let's see if I can stay from ripping my professor's throat out today. I wanted to do it before, so, logically speaking, it should have amplified as well. If I don't, it'll be a huge success."

Caroline smiled knowingly. "Sounds familiar, too."

Jenna checked her watched, cursed under her breath and downed the rest of the coffee that scalded her throat. But, honestly, it was the least of her worries right now. Surprisingly, knowing that she had an eternity to finish her education didn't change the fact that she didn't want to fail it the first time around. Speak of being s decent role model for the growing generation of the house.

"Boy, why can't we time travel, too?" She breathed out, grabbing her toast.

"Tell me about it," Caroline sighed.

Jenna hurried for the door, but then paused and turned.

"Caroline?" She waited for the girl to meet her eyes. "You're—you're new to this whole thing as well, right?"

"To being a vampire? You can say that."

Jenna fiddle with the strap of her bag in her fingers for a few moments. "Is it still weird for you?" She asked at last. Rubbed her forehead thoughtfully. "Does it ever change? Steafn told me you get used to it, with time, but he's been around for quite a while."

"It was weird." Caroline admitted, her expression full of compassion. "But it gets better eventually… I promise it does. Just… just don't think about it, okay? Try not to overanalyze it much. It will just happen." She pushed her hair off her face. "Besides, it should be easier for you. Your family is there for you. Your boyfriend is not a vampirephob."

"Elena told me about you and Matt," Jenna flinched a little. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay," Caroline started, then stumbled. "I mean I'm not okay with it, but I can't really blame him, you know? Personally, I have no idea how I would have reacted if our places were reversed. Besides, I'd rather have it like that than… than if he'd pretend he's fine with all of it."

"I'm sure you guys will figure it out," she assured the girl, if only because she wanted to believe it, too.

* * *

><p><em>You're an idiot, you know that, right? <em>

That was a small voice in her head that made Jenna pause before the tall wooden door leading to Mystic Grill. It wasn't too late to turn around, get in her Mini Cooper and leave. Jenna knew that Elijah must have kept in mind her not showing up after all, she it wouldn't be totally unexpected. She had no idea why she even was there. Why she didn't call Alaric. Why she never told anyone about it. Why she even considered coming instead of sending him to hell, where he obviously belonged. Him and his brother.

Tempting.

She wasn't going to go. In the morning she was certain she'd simply forget about the whole incident altogether. Yet, she was completely unable to get it out of her head, and instead of heading straight to the boarding house, she ended up looking for a parking spot near the Grill, feeling like a total moron.

Jenna heaved a sign and pulled the door open before stepping into a semi-dark room, half full now that the lunch rush had died out a little and the dinner time was too far away yet. She scanned the familiar space, spotting a few pool players in the corner. High school kids, she figures. Either ditching their classes, or done for the day. A man who looked like a school professor in his mid fifties was sitting at the bar with an open newspaper and a cup of coffee before him. A few groups were scattered around the dining area, forks and knives jingling against the plates. Soft music, unlike the usual rock-n-roll type normally played in the evening, was streaming out of jukebox.

Okay, she had to give him that, Jenna thought. Elijah knew how to choose perfect time and place. Public place that surely gave her a certain amount of safety, but not crowded enough to be disturbing. Yes, that was probably the reason she showed up after all. That, and curiosity that Jenna couldn't help. And desperate hope for… well, what if he actually knew something?

Elijah was sitting in the booth by the tinted window, a cup of tea before him, looking as out of place at the bar as one possibly could. Once again, Jenna realized how much more appropriate for him would be attending a tea party thrown by the queen. Here, he stood out like a sore thumb, basically. Which, much to her surprise, seemed to be her reaction only. Neither staff, nor other visitors seemed to be merely bothered by his presence. But then again, why would they?

He snapped his head up when she paused in the entry and the corners of his mouth tugged up a little. He didn't look smug about it though, just pleased that she decided to come after all. He put down laminated menu he was toying with back on the table and rose up to his feet, waiting for her to approach.

Not too late to leave, Jenna told herself once again, but headed towards his table anyway.

"Good afternoon, Jenna. I'm glad you chose to join me."

She swallowed snappy remark and pursed her lips into a tight line for a moment, studying him, wondering whether she'd feel if anything was wrong. She didn't know. It was hard to say if the intuition was her thing before, but it certainly didn't get any stronger once she became a vampire.

"I figured I might regret it if I didn't," Jenna admitted, her voice cool.

It seemed to amuse Elijah, turning his eyes golden warm. But he was careful not to let it slip. Or not to let it slip too obviously.

"Take a seat," he gestured towards the leather bench and then seated himself as well across from her. "Tea?" Elijah asked then even though it was a mere formality as someone put a cup before Jenna the moment she plopped down. She'd be glad to use something much stronger than tea, she thought, if only to be able to comprehend the whole situation better. But she'd save it for later.

Jenna regarded him darkly. "How about we cut to the chase?"

Elijah nodded. "You're upset. It's understandable—"

"Hell, yes, it is."

"I would like to apologize for—"

"For using me?" She cut him off, cocking her head to her shoulder. "For your brother killing me? For the two of you playing Gods as if the lives of innocent people mean nothing? Please, don't waste your breath."

"I mean you nor harm, Jenna," Elijah shook his head and studied teaspoon for a few moments before locking his eyes on hers again. "Quite on contrary, I would like to make sure you make it out of this in one piece."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you even bother?" She dropped some sugar into her cup and started stirring it slowly if only to occupy herself somehow, hoping her hands weren't trembling too much to spill the tea. "Sure you don't care. So, why?"

Elijah took his time to process her words before speaking again. "There is purpose," he started slowly, "and then there is absurd obsession. You may not believe it, but I do not want to see any lives wasted without reason. Nicklaus… he has always been stubborn. It was impossible to prove something to him until he wanted to admit and accept it on his own terms. Centuries of being a vampire did little to change his attitude." He caught her gaze, held it. "He believes that the ends justify the means. I disagree. I do not want him to cause more harm than he absolutely has to. Your family paid enough already."

"How about locking him up somewhere?" Jenna muttered almost with disgust.

Elijah smiled somewhat sadly, which caught her by surprise. "Like I said, it is something I don't think you can see clearly. But, first, you must have noticed that it is not possible to make him do what he doesn't want to do. And second, he is _my_ family. Forever is a lonely time when you're on your own."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but Elena told me he killed the rest of your family," Jenna reminded him. "So yeah, I can totally see your point here."

"You don't understand."

"And trust me, I don't want to." She huffed. "What is this small talk about, again? I still don't see the point."

Elijah reached for the cup and took a small sip before putting it back down on the platter. "I assume your must have already heard about… certain interest that my brother took in you."

Instantly, Jenna went completely rigid all over. "So, it is true," which was a statement, not a question.

Not that she doubted it in the first place. Not really. Having it firmly confirmed, however, made it feel more real somehow.

"Sadly," Elijah nodded.

She slumped against the back of the bench on a sharp inhale and then let out a long exhausted breath, feeling like a balloon popped with a needle.

"But… why?" She looked up at him, feeling miserable and confused. "What is it about me that—that he wants? I don't get it. It—it makes no sense. Is it—" Jenna snapped her head up. "Is it because I survived the sacrifice?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Oh god," she raked her hands through her hair. Okay, maybe asking for bourbon wasn't such a bad idea after all. "But I—" Shook her head not even trying to sort through the tangled mess of thoughts coiling in her head. She recalled Ric mentioning something about her being turned by the Original but it was hardly an answer to any of her questions. "I don't know how it happened. Or why. Or what it means, if anything at all."

Elijah picked up the table spoon again and started finding with it, thinking. Probably. It was more than a little unnerving to never know what was going on in his head. When some people were open books, literary, Elijah was not only a closed one, but also the one locked in the safe and password protected.

"That's the problem." His eyes shifted up, roamed across her features. "He's confused because it has never happened before, and Nicklaus doesn't do confused. He doesn't like not knowing things, especially when they concern him in one way or another."

"In other words, I'm another toy he wants to play with until he is bored."

"Pretty much."

"You sure know how to sugar-coat it." Jenna closed her hands around the cup of tea sitting before her on the table and gripped it tight, feeling the warmth from it spreading through her palms and up her arms and all over her body. It was only then that she realized she was shaking slightly, her teeth chattering unevenly as if she was out in the cold. "So, what's your deal? Why are you telling me all of this?"

Elijah studied her thoughtfully. "Like I said, I don't want to have anymore lived wasted in vain. Not for the reasons my brother is following, at least."

"And what's in it for you?" Jenna watched him somewhat warily, clearly not trusting him a bit. "It sure it isn't some charity act."

"Just because Nicklaus thinks he is right doesn't mean that he is." The older vampire paused. "I promised Elena to keep her loved ones safe is she cooperates. She kept her word. I didn't."

Jenna's lips twitched bitterly. "Which obviously slipped your mind when you sent that promise down the drain and betrayed her."

"I had my reasons."

"I'm sure you did," she let out in a whoosh of breath, realizing all of a sudden that she wasn't even mad at him anymore. Not like from the start. Apparently it was not possible to be scared and mad and horrified and puzzled for a million of reasons at the same time. "Is it true, then?" Her glance went up to his face again. "Is it true that I am… different?"

"I don't know," Elijah admitted honestly after a short hesitation. "Maybe you are. Maybe you're not." He inclined his head to his shoulder. "Do you feel different?"

Jenna sagged back as short back of a humorless laugh escaped her lips. "You're kidding, right? Because, you know, I don't feel _not_ different, as of, like, two weeks. Not even a little."

They stayed silent for a while.

"There are a lot of ways to find out if you're any _special_, Jenna," Elijah told her after a couple of minutes. "I'm sure you won't like with of them." He gave her a few moments to process the information. "Also, I suggest you be very careful. My brother is a patient man when he needs to be. But he is quite—explosive, I'd say, in the situations when things don't go his way."

"I would've never thought," she muttered darkly.

He dismissed her comment. "Nicklaus doesn't trust me enough to share his plans."

"Naturally. Which basically brings the concept of dysfunctional family to a whole new level. Did you know that?"

That he totally ignored as well. "Just keep in mind that Klaus never stops until he gets exactly what he wants. "You're a fighter, just like Elena. You won't give up and go down willingly." Another long pause. "But remember that he will make sure to find the right button to push to make you a lot more agreeable."

Jenna froze, chill ran down her spine at her words and covered her insides with the ice-crust. Her mouth went dry, and when she spoke, her voice was barely audible, only for the vampire ears to catch.

"Are you saying that he will come after them? After Elena and Jeremy? Ric?"

"All I am saying is that it would be an obvious move to make," Elijah said quietly. He seemed to be calm and composed, his expression remaining blank as a sheet of paper, although Jenna was almost sure that his neck tensed and his grip on his own cup of tea tightened a tiny bit, his knuckles turning a little whiter. "It is to be expected."

"Oh god." She thought she was suffocating. _Breathe, just breathe_, Jenna told herself frantically as a cold iron hand of panic clutched her throat and squeezed it until even the smallest intake of air was not possible. "Oh god," She repeated, fearing that her heart might break through the rib cage and leap out of her chest.

"I'm sorry for being the one to drop the news on you," Elijah said, and for once she could see that he actually meant it. "Also, I guess you should pick this up before it exploded or something," he added.

Startled, Jenna realized with surprise that her phone was chirping and buzzing in her bag. She totally missed it, too absorbed by the thoughts about the impending death of everyone that she loved and overall end of the world. One missed call didn't look like much of a disaster in the grand picture.

But it could be Ric.

"Yes, I should… probably…" She pushed her hair out of her face, ticked it behind her ears and reached hastily for the phone if only to finally stop the annoying noise that was piercing through her pounding skull.

The caller ID, however, said Carol Lockwood.

Jenna's first instinct was to turn it off. God knew, dealing with Lady Mayor was the last thing on her list at the moment. A quick glance at Elijah, though, revealed that he certainly didn't mind any of this. So, she pushed the accept button to hopefully get this issue, whatever it was, out of her hair.

"Carol," Jenna started, then cleared her throat when she realized that her voice was quivering. Took a steadying breath. "Hey."

"_Jenna, hello,_" the Mayor sounded chipper and excited on the other end of the line. "_I hope I'm not interrupting anything?_"

Jenna's eyes darted towards Elijah once again. _You have no idea_. "No, no. Not at all. I just—I couldn't find the phone in my bag. You know how it is."

"_I sure do._"

"Can I do anything for you?" And please, oh please, let it be something that can be solved by phone. She pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing away the mother of all headaches that started to pool behind her eyes.

"_Ah, actually yes, you can._" Carol was all business at once. "_Remember that children's educational center that your sister used to support?_"

"Um, yeah, sure." Was there anything in this town that Miranda _wasn't_ supporting? Jenna made a mental note to go through the list one more time in order to avoid feeling like an idiot again because, really, educational centers weren't ringing a bell. "What about it?"

"_I have this idea of running a small fundraising event to keep it afloat, and I thought you mind find it interesting to participate_." Jenna heard her ruffling through some papers. "_And really, I could use some help with organization and invitations. What do you think about it?_"

Hell no, no way, not in this lifetime.

"Yeah, sure…" She fumbled. "I really appreciate you following Miranda's projects. I'm sure it would mean a lot to her."

"_Wonderful!_" It was impossible not to imagine Carol Lockwood brightening up the world with a thousand watt smile. For all Jenna knew, it was easier to say yes than to explain why she hated the idea with passion. Okay, maybe not entirely hated. She just wasn't much into the whole united community thing on her better days. And it definitely was what she cared about least in current circumstances. But then again, she couldn't quite list these reasons to Carol. And anyway, for the sake of sanity and survival, it was a smarter thing to oblige. "_How about you stop by and we discuss some details?_"

"Um, sure—"

"_Say, in about an hour?_ _Unless, of course, you have some other plans_."

It felt like quicksand – the more you fight, the faster you drown. It wasn't making any sense to keep the fight up, then. Jenna turned towards Elijah again, not quite certain they were done. He nodded though, clearly hearing both sides of the conversation.

"Yes… I mean no, no plans. In an hour is fine."

"_Good! I'll see you then_."

And then Carol hung up, leaving Jenna wondering about what had just happened.

She dropped the phone on the table and ran her hands up and down her face, taking one deliberately slow breath after another, her head spinning a little from all the information and having to think about so much at once. With Klaus stepping on her heels, another public event was just what she needed in her life to end up in a nut house in under a week.

Her thoughts jumped to the conversation with Elijah and everything he dumped on her without giving her a chance to digest it properly. She didn't know if she trusted him, but after giving it a second thought Jenna realized that she had no reason not to. Why would he lie about something like that? It wasn't like she suddenly changed her mind about him using her and her entire family, but she fought hard and still couldn't see what could he possibly gain from feeding her this story.

Jenna thought about her sister. She thought about all of them having to fight for their lives, literary. About choking down vervain every now and then because it was the only way to make it through the day and know that her life was her own. About calling Carol and telling her they were moving to Aruba, so, sorry, the fundraisers were out of her league from now on. The last idea was the most appealing.

"I take it you should go now," Elijah said when she failed to find any words to keep their interrupted conversation going.

"I'm sorry about that," she shot a look at her phone.

Elijah offered her a small shrug. "I have a business to attend as well. Besides, there is nothing else I can do for you, I'm afraid." He gestured to the waitress to get the bill and then shook his head when Jenna reached for her wallet automatically. "I am sorry about this situation, but I do have my reasons for siding with my brother, or at the very least not to confront him openly. Yet."

Slowly, Jenna nodded, noting mentally that whatever it was, she didn't want to know about it seeing as how she already knew enough to lose the remains of her sleep.

She reached for her bag but then hesitated. "Do you think I can do something to change it? To make him change his mind, leave me alone?" Which was like asking for her death sentence to be cancelled. Elijah only cocked his eyebrow in response, and that was as much of a response as she expected. "Right." She slid out of the booth, straightened her jacket, grabbed her bad and slung the strap over her shoulder. "Well, thanks, I guess. I still think you're a jerk, but I do appreciate what you did today."

"You're welcome." Elijah rose as well, towering over her now.

Jenna nodded, not quite sure if there was anything else to say, and walked out into the early pre-dusk without looking back, her head spinning.

It was a short ride. Even more so because of the explosion of thoughts, fears and panicky half plans to move to the moon swirling in her mind. The near darkness enveloped around her, black road snaking between the trees as she sped up, too disturbed and distracted to care about the speeding regime. The Lockwood mansion stepped out from the twilight, illuminated like a Christmas tree. Jenna parked her car in the driveway and slammed the door before hurrying up the steps. Please let it be short, she thought desperately.

It was only when Jenna's finger reached for the door bell that she realized that she couldn't walk freely into any house the way she used to, and suddenly that was more than just mere inconvenience. Damn it, she hated not thinking about such things beforehand! It would've made sense to talk Carol into meeting outside of something because it would obviously be more than a little awkward to be suck on the porch, not being able to—

The door swung open before Jenna went through the whole list of possible scenarios most of which inevitably ended with her scramming hastily before it was too late. Apparently, it _was_ too late now, with Carol Lockwood standing right across the threshold from her, all excited and but radiating.

"Jenna! Thank you for making it here so fast," Carol greeted her heartily, and Jenna reminded herself that despite her own attitude towards the whole thing, the Mayor was indeed doing the right thing that a lot of people could benefit from. "Come in!" Carol held the door open, and Jenna felt the weight of the world lift off of her shoulder as she stepped effortlessly inside. "We've been catching up on some stuff. Would you like to have a cup of tea?"

Jenna's phone beeped once in her pocket, announcing the arrival of a text message, and she fished it out to find out it was from Ric. "We?" She asked if a little distractedly, following Carol into the parlor of the Lockwood mansion.

_Be back later. Football practice. I swear to God we're trying out for the National Cup. Miss you_

Jenna smiled to herself and shook her head.

"…obviously, because there are still good people in this world," she heard Carol saying, realizing that she totally zoned out and totally missed the beginning.

"Hm," Jenna muttered in half agreement and half _yeah-I'm-here-and-I'm-listening_. Thank god, it didn't look like a question that required a coherent answer.

There was someone else in the room, which wasn't a surprise at all. A man was sitting in one of the tall-backed chairs that in Jenna's opinion belonged in some museum. If, of course, it was authentic. But then again, she was almost sure it was. A silver tray with delicate china set on it was placed on the coffee table before him.

There was something vaguely familiar about him, and a heavy feeling wrenched Jenna's gut even before a suspicion fully formed in her mind, and suddenly she found herself wanting to be as far away from this room and this person as it was only possible as her heart plummeted down to the pit of her stomach.

He heard their footsteps, rose from his seat and turned, making the world sway around Jenna. She stopped short, torn between running away and simply blacking out, preferably until this whole nightmare was finally over.

Oblivious, Carol stopped and turned around as well, a pleasant smile on her lips. "Jenna, let me introduce you to Mr—"

"Klaus," he interrupted her gently, his eyes never leaving Jenna. "For you, it is just Klaus."

**To be continued… **

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><p>It's a bit messy, I know. Sorry!<p>

But still... Reviews? Comments? Opinions?


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:** Look who is still alive! Yeah, believe it or not, but I am back with an update. Yay? For you, guys, to decide :) I apologize for taking so long to write the chapter that pretty much sucks :P I hate it when real life gets in the way but it tends to do it a lot lately.

Dig in!

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><p><strong>Chapter 9 <strong>

_~Reborn and shivering_

_Spat out on new terrain_

_Unsure, unconvincing_

_This faint and shaky hour_

"_Not As We" – Alanis Morissette~_

**[flashback] **

Jenna walked into the kitchen with an empty tray just as Miranda retrieved another batch of cinnamon-almond cookies out of the oven and put it onto the sink so that they could cool down. Behind them, the living room was filled with people and the sound of never-ending conversations while the air smelled of pine, candles and Christmas.

"We're out of quiche pies," Jenna informed her sister, setting the tray onto the counter and leaning across it on her forearms. "And please tell me there is more eggnog somewhere here." Dressed in a black short-sleeved cocktail dress, she huffed, blowing a curl off of her forehead before scanning the kitchen, half expecting the bottle to pop up before her eyes.

Miranda straightened up, chuckling, and pulled off the cooking gloves. "I saved some for you."

Jenna all but sighed with relief, then threw a quick look over her shoulder before narrowing her eyes at Miranda. "Remind me why did I sign up for this, again?"

"Because you love me, kid sis," Miranda winked at her.

"Uh-huh… God, these are so good!" She all but moaned, biting carefully into a cookie so that she wouldn't set her mouth on fire but unable to hold back.

"Hey, these are for dessert!" Miranda reached out to slap her on the hand, but Jenna ducked and skirted away, laughing.

"No," she pointed a cookie at her sister before taking another bite, "these are my reward for living through the evening. To be honest, I almost forgot it was even possible to gather so many boring people in one place." Another glance at packed living room. "Really, do you _have_ to do it all the time?"

"Well, I'm sorry that we don't live up to your high standards of wild college parties, Jen," Miranda nudged her with the elbow, making Jenna scoff. "Could you please put the quiche pies in the oven? They are in the fridge, top shelf."

"Sure." Jenna polished off the rest of the cookie and pulled the fridge door open, deciding not to comment on the whole "being a Gilbert is a responsibility" crap which was the reason of her sister throwing Christmas parties for the founding families every year a week before actual Christmas, thus making Jenna an inevitable participant because she always came for a visit on holidays, and it involved rolled eyes and flat comments on the younger Sommers part. Not that Miranda was taking it as an obligation, though. They simply agreed to disagree on it. "Ah, here you are! Hello, baby, mommy's home." She reached for the plate of pies first and then for a bottle of her promised eggnog. "Okay, question," Jenna said, facing Miranda again, "I get it, Santa will put a rock in your stocking if you don't torture all of us through this hell, but do you really have to invite _everyone_?" Her eyes darted towards John Gilbert, and she grimaced as if smelling something foul.

Miranda's lips quirked a little. "I know he's not your favorite person in the world—"

"To say the least," Jenna muttered under her breath.

"—but please, behave."

"R-r-right." She huffed skeptically.

In fact, Jenna would have been completely and utterly happy to never ever see John Gilbert again in her life. Sadly, she couldn't just cross him out of the family tree, and from what she saw, the Gilberts took that tree pretty seriously.

She hated feeling that was about low self-centered jerk who was not worth a single thought on her behalf, so she tried to get him out of her head before someone ended up at the hospital with minor to medium injuries resulted from the impact with a heavy object. Probably eggnog bottle. It would hardly be appreciated by the founding families. And if the bottle broke, it would also stain the carpet.

"Jen? Can I talk to you about something?"

"Uh-huh." Jenna moved the quiche pies from the plate to the cooking tray and putting it into the oven before adjusting temperature and timer. "What is it?" She asked without turning around, her eyes on the cheese melting in the heat.

Across the kitchen, Miranda paused and took a breath. "Well, Grayson and I were wondering if you would…um, if you would agree to become a legal guardian for Jeremy and Elena," she said cautiously, as if uncertain of her choice of words.

Jenna froze, one hundred percent sure she either heard or understood it wrong. Slowly, she turned around, expecting Miranda to start laughing and tell her it was a joke any moment. _Come on, do it!_ For some reason, however, the time kept ticking by, but nothing was happening.

"To become a _what_?" She asked dumbly in about half a minute.

"Their legal guardian," Miranda repeated patiently. "In case something happens to us. To me and Grayson."

"Like what?"

It wasn't that she was stupid. She knew _exactly_ what her sister meant. But her mind was working very, very slowly for some reason, as if someone stuffed her skull with cotton and it was difficult for her thoughts to struggle through it.

"I don't know. Something."

And it was making less and less sense.

"You're kidding, right? No more eggnog for you tonight, big sis."

Smiling, Miranda leaned against the kitchen island and folded her arms on her chest. She regarded Jenna kindly. "No, I'm not. Gray and I had talked about it, and we've decided that you're our best choice."

Jenna blinked. "Ooookay," she drawled. "Now I know it's a joke." They watched each other for a little while until the truth kicked in. "Oh my god, it's not."

"No, not really."

"But—"

Jenna stuttered, not able to wrap her mind around her sister's request, whether because it was too crazy to process, or because that last glass of champagne was one glass too much for the night. She threw a quick panicky look at twelve-year old Elena giggling over something in the corner with her lifetime friend Bonnie, and Jeremy who followed John around the house as if the man was his personal Christmas gift – something Jenna could never get – before fixing her eyes on Miranda again.

It was her Christmas break, the time to have some fun with her family in between having even more fun with her college crowd. _This_ wasn't what she expected to hear when she drove her new Ford – mom and dad's birthday present – back to Mystic Falls, her finger tapping on the steering wheel to the music blasting her eardrums. _This_ wasn't what she thought she'd have to deal with. Moreover, up until this very moment Jenna was sure that not scratching John's eyes out would be the biggest challenge of the week.

"God, I need a drink." Except that she doubted it would actually help. In fact, she suddenly felt like she didn't touch a drop of alcohol that night. "Why?" She demanded. "What brought this up?"

Miranda's expression softened. "Nothing in particular," she assured Jenna, and explained, "It's just what everyone else does. And please, don't have this face, Jen. I'm not asking you to adopt them tomorrow. It's just a formal thing."

"Oh boy," Jenna breathed out, her shoulders sagging. She let to a shaky laugh. "You sure know how to kick the ground from beneath someone's feet." Her fingers raked through her thick curls, and a bunch of bracelets of her wrist jingled and winked, catching the light of the chandeliers on the walls. Somewhat overwhelmed, she looked helplessly at her sister. "But… me? I mean, it's so crazy, and… can't you ask someone else? Someone who could do a better job?"

To say that Miranda's request was like a thunder in clear sky was a huge understatement. It threw Jenna off, making her lose her balance minutely. Being a cool aunt and a confidant, and babysitting Jeremy and Elena every now and then – which for the most part included eating unhealthy amounts of pizza and staying up extra late on an unspoken _I won't tell if you won't_ agreement – was one thing. She was fine with being a good example of bad for them.

Parenting? She couldn't do that! She couldn't even take care of herself properly, for heaven's sake! And that ever-growing pile of laundry in her dorm room – seriously, couldn't she just throw it away? – and a bunch of overdue papers proved it better than anything. What Miranda asked for could very well be defined by the scariest word in Jenna Sommers' universe – responsibility. And it was setting off her panic mode faster than a stack of unpaid bills she tried really hard not to think about. Of all people in the world, she was the least suitable candidate for a role model for soon-to-be-teenagers, regardless of how much she loved them.

The world zoomed in for a moment, making her stomach coil and flop.

"Well, there is John, of course," Miranda went on meanwhile.

"And then there is a nest of snakes," Jenna muttered under her breath, taking a swig of eggnog right from the bottle. Between John (and could he please shut up about being so damn cool for a moment? Jeez!), the Lockwoods (because being anything less than a member of a founding family in Mystic Falls was like a disgrace in this society or something) and this conversation, there probably wasn't enough booze to get her through the night. "What about this cousin of Grayson's? From New Jersey?"

Miranda chuckled and shook her head. "Could you please stop freaking out and listen to me?"

"I'm trying," Jenna promised her, "even though you totally lost me at the word 'guardian'. I am not even sure now you said it at all because the whole world has been funny ever since." She exhaled slowly, her heart being unevenly in her throat. "I mean… are you sure?"

"I'm not asking you to jump off the bridge, or anything of that kind."

"Yep, you go straight to a lot more terrifying stuff."

"Look, it is going to be nothing but a formality that will help me sleep better at night. Hopefully, in a few years we will just forget about it for good." Miranda paused, waiting for Jenna to lock her eyes with hers again. "And yes, maybe there is someone else out there who knows more about all of that. And I am sure there is someone who is a lot more experienced. But it's not only about that. I hate the idea of something happening to me or Gray, but if it does…" she offered Jenna a small, vague shrug, "if it does, I don't want my kids to end up with someone _right_. I want them to stay with someone who is going to feel like home. And there is no one in the world who can do it better than you, Jen."

Jenna's chest tightened, and she let out a gurgling half-snort, which was the only thing that held her from tearing up, which would have been so not cool. "I hate you for manipulating me like that."

"Is that a yes?"

She inhaled sharply. "Under one condition."

"What?" Miranda's eyebrows arched.

Jenna's eyes darted towards the living room, her voice dropping to a whisper, "You have to promise me right now that you don't already have a fake passport and a one-way ticket to Australia just because it's the only way not to deal with the founding families ever again."

**[flashback]**

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><p>When Alaric walked briskly into the parlor of the boarding house, the first person he saw was Jenna. She was sitting on one of the leather couches, her elbows propped on her knees and her hands clasped together in tight white-knuckled grip. Elena was perched on the edge of leather cushion beside her, her palm resting on the knot of Jenna's fingers.<p>

Stefan stood before them, looking like tornado, tsunami and overall end of the world were about to down upon them any moment. His face was grim, and the atmosphere in the room was so tense it was a miracle the sparks weren't flying in the air. The line of his shoulders alone was stiff enough to be rock solid.

Moment later, he spotted Damon by the liquor cart filling two round tumblers with thick amber liquid. Flammable – judging by the smell hanging in the air.

The whole picture looked and felt wrong for the reasons Alaric couldn't quite place right away, and his stomach curled, heart plummeting down. If only there was one thing he was particularly good at, it was reading the signs. Especially bad ones.

Jenna snapped her hear up the moment he stepped in, mildly relieved and more painfully confused. They all turned to look at him, and Alaric returned wary glance, regarding each and every in turns.

"What's going on here?" He asked cautiously, his voice hoarse and his throat dry and raw as sandpaper. He knew instantly with a one hundred percent certainty that he absolutely did _not_ want to know the answer to that question. Moreover, he definitely wouldn't mind starting the day all over again, just to be safe, if only any such thing was possible.

He stopped the football practice after Damon's "911" text half an hour ago, and was halfway to the boarding house by the time "911!" arrived. The darkness fell by then, chasing away the fading light and making Alaric speed up, cutting the corners, as something dark and strange and frightening settled in his gut. Like when you know that something bad is coming even when you have no reason to think so. He tried Jenna's phone again and again, but it was going straight to voice mail every time, which wasn't exactly reassuring either. And, apparently, there was no limit to his imagination when it came to freak-out scenarios.

It was a relief to see Jenna, and it made him realize how rigid his muscles were because deep inside he was sure that something horrible had happened to her. Something no one – leave alone him – could fix. And when it turned out it wasn't true, he wanted to laugh hysterically. Said relief faded instantly, however, when he registered grayish pallor of her face. She looked like had seen a ghost.

"Klaus," Damon responded matter-of-factly, and the sound of that name floated across the room. He circled the couch and offered one of the tumblers to Jenna, which she accepted with shaking hands, before gulping down about half of his own without so much as a blink, the seeming easiness of his posture nothing but a façade. He puckered his lips thoughtfully, then added as he met Alaric's gaze, "Yeah, that pretty much covers it."

Ric froze. "What are you talking about?" His eyes flickered to Jenna, willing her to reassure him, laugh it off and proceed to a less dramatic drama of the day.

"Well, looks like hiding in the basement is not that much fun anymore." Damon explained as if it could actually explain anything.

Alaric looked at each of them in turns once again before fixing his eyes on Jenna again, and he felt chill trickle down his spine when Damon's words finally kicked in.

"He was at Carol's when I came over," she said.

Jenna put her untouched drink on the table by the couch and rose to her feet when Ric approached her. Oddly, he looked even more distressed than she felt, which felt weird and yet warm inside of her. She could hear his frantic, panicking heartbeat which did little to sooth her. But he was there, and he was fine, and that was as much as she could ask for right now because God only knew what lengths Klaus was willing to go to—

To do what? She didn't want to think about it, not now.

"Are you okay?" Alaric asked quietly, his hand brushing against hers, a feather-light touch to make sure she was actually there, next to him, his eyes searching her face for something he couldn't define or name.

Jenna's first instinct was to come up with some quip and wave it off, if only to smooth that concerned crease between his brows and make this hunter fear leave his eyes. She's sure do that… if only her insides weren't doing crazy somersaults already.

"Yeah." She wrinkled her nose, trying to keep her voice light. It betrayed her though, quivering slightly against Jenna's will seeing as how that encounter was the second scariest thing in her life perhaps, that could only be compared to her parents finding a pack of cigarettes in the drawer of her dresser when she was in eleventh grade, and she had to come up with the craziest story about some school project for sociology class, lame and utterly unbelievable, that was the only thing that saved her from being grounded until she was eighty. The cigarettes were Mason's though, and he was too much of a chicken to keep them in his own house because father Lockwood would kill him if he found out his youngest son was smoking (which wasn't much of actual smoking, but still!). Yet, Jenna couldn't stand the idea of giving him away, so – social project it was! "Yes, I'm fine, Ric," she breathed out.

"What happened? What did he want?"

"I—I don't know." She raked her fingers nervously through her hair and repeated the story she had already told Stefan, Elena and Damon, which was little to nothing. "I pretty much blacked out when I saw him," Jenna admitted on a wry half smile. "And then he was gone, and I was stuck with Carol who obviously had no idea who he was. He—" she met Alaric's eyes again. "He didn't say anything, but…"

"But he pretty much proved his point – he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and we will all be nice and serve him tea and biscuits," Damon finished for her, his frustration poorly masked by fake cheerfulness.

"He's making a point alright," Stefan scrubbed his hand down his face. "And now he has every door open for him, literary."

Alaric turned to him. "What do you mean?"

"In his charming manner, Klaus decided to follow his brother's footsteps and pose as someone that he isn't," Damon replied acidly before Stefan so much as opened his mouth. "Oh, wait, that's what we all do here. It's alright then." He gulped more bourbon as if aiming to eliminate the taste of something foul in his mouth.

"You can't be serious," Alaric half turned to him, his hand going on rest on the small of Jenna's back. "Another British guy popping out of nowhere because he is suddenly interested in Mystic Falls, a small town in the middle of nowhere – they can't keep buying that. It's ridiculous."

"Welcome to the Wonderland, Ric."

"Elijah got Carol off vervain, Ric." Elena spoke, ignoring Damon as she looked up at Alaric, and then at all of them in turns. "I have no idea if anyone took care of putting her back on it." She sighed. "To be honest, it totally slipped my mind, and with Tyler out of town, I have no idea who to ask."

"Which means that anyone can be off vervain by now," Stefan muttered.

"Not Liz," Damon shook his head. "She said she's been adding it to her coffee every morning."

"And Caroline makes sure she really does," Elena added.

"I'll talk to the Sheriff about ensuring everyone is getting their daily fix," Damon offered then. "Without bringing Elijah in, of course. It's so messed up," he muttered under his breath.

Alaric turned back to Jenna. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, nothing like that." She drew in a breath and then exhaled slowly. "I just—" shaky laugh. "I didn't expect to see him. Speak of the element of surprise. I didn't think he would be bold enough." Which was stupid, and now that she could think about it, Jenna kicked herself mentally for being no damn naïve in his regards.

_Especially after talking to Elijah_, she added to herself with a mental flinch, reminding herself that she still needed to tall Ric about her conversation with elder Original. Just not with the audience, she decided, seeing as how she'd get bombed with questions and accusations the moment she'd open her mouth.

Another issue was that she still wasn't sure how she felt about the afternoon tea at the Grill. She didn't know what to think about it, and before she had time to process their talk one way or another, she had the whole Klaus thing thrown right in her face, and now her head was spinning, making it hard to think straight. Or to think, period. Was it a coincidence that Klaus popped out like a clown out of a toy box right after she had a chit chat with his brother? It was seriously getting a little too much for one day. Or a week. Or, in that particular case, a year.

"He's crossing the line," Damon finished his drink in one big gulp.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Stefan inquired mildly, but not without challenge. "Politely ask him to remember his place?"

"Well, last time I checked, sitting and doing nothing wasn't helping."

"If your general idea is to get yourself killed, you're moving in the right direction."

"If your idea, brother, is to hide in a bunker, it won't work, I'm afraid. Ask Katherine."

Jenna ignored their bickering altogether.

"I'm so sorry about all of that," she said quietly, eyes on Alaric's. "I wish there was something I could do to… I don't know, make it all go away."

"Well, you could have died," Damon pointed out, and received three scorching scowls and one eye-roll. "What? She asked! I'm not saying she should go and do hara-kiri now." He downed his drink.

"Okay, now I need this," Jenna muttered reaching for her own glass. A sip of bourbon made her flinch a little when it scalded her mouth and burned its way down her stomach, rising a wave of warmth up her body.

"You sure Klaus didn't say anything… specific?" Stefan pressed after a pause, his expression is the one of deep concentration as if he was trying hard and yet failing to see something vitally important, and it bothered him more than anything. Something that was right on the surface but masked to stay hidden. "Maybe, he mentioned something?"

Jenna raked her brain once again for the answer she knew she wouldn't find. After all, she was running and rerunning the whole incident in her head for the past hour, and was seemingly unable to squeeze anything new out of drastically little information that she had. Klaus might have as well shared every detail of his evil master plan that could include taking over the world and making everyone wearing Tyrol shorts and smoking pipes, and it would probably slip her mind either way, seeing as how she was practically comatose from the moment she laid her eyes on him and until she stepped over the threshold of the boarding house and locked the door behind her back, unable to make a proper breath and feeling dizzy and sick and limp.

"No, I—I don't think so," she responded if a little reluctantly. "Carol asked him about Europe. Then he bombed her with questions about the town's history, and civil war, and the battle fields." She looked quickly at Alaric, then shrugged. "She invited him for a Sunday brunch."

"He is being reckless," Damon sneered, "and it's going to bite him in the ass."

"How?" Stefan cocked a brow. "Do you have a secret weapon lying around?"

"I'm working on it." Damon replied vaguely, mimicking his brother's tone.

Jenna frowned a little when something occurred to her, and looked past Alaric's shoulder and around the room, frowning slightly.

"Where is Jeremy?" She asked no one in particular, even though moment later her eyes landed on Elena, and she tried real hard not to panic because with Klaus walking around Mystic Falls like he owned the town she would prefer her loved ones to be in close vicinity, ideally – in her range of vision.

"He went with Bonnie to the old witch house to fetch the Grimoirs," Elena responded immediately.

"Because this is what they call afterschool activities these days," Damon added.

"They are fine," Stefan reassured Jenna. "Caroline is with them, I just talked to her. They'll head back home soon."

"Caroline's with them? So, the witches hate me but not Blondie?" Damon snorted. "Unbelievable."

"I'll call him," Elena all but jumped off the couch and walked hastily out of the parlor, fishing the phone from the pocket of her jacket as she went.

Jenna felt tight tension easing up. She knew it was a temporary relief. She knew that the fact that Klaus did not kidnap her for some lab experiments – because it would be hard to compel something like that out of Carol Lockwood – did not mean that their problems were over. But she needed that little break before the rain of troubles started again.

She looked up at Ric, comforted by the warmth of his body so close to hers. As if sensing her gaze, he shifted his gaze down and offered her a small encouraging smile, clouded by worry.

"I hate knowing that he is out there doing whatever he pleases," he said quietly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"That… pretty much covers my feelings as well," she admitted, crinkling her nose and letting out a short, humorless laugh. The touch of his fingers tingles the skin of her cheek even after her lowered his hand. "Can I talk to you?" Her glance darted towards Stefan and Damon discussing something in loud whisper in the corner, both stubborn and annoyed. "In private."

"Sure." He agreed hesitantly. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure." Jenna echoed. _Aside from the fact that a psycho invincible hybrid with a Napoleon complex and violence issues is running on the loose, looking for the victims to pray on and not giving a damn about anything, but what the hell?_

* * *

><p>"This place seriously freaks me out," Caroline mumbled, staring at what was left of an old manor, once beautiful and elegant, but now abandoned and forgotten, looming dangerously above them in near dark as it stepped out of the shadows.<p>

The time was merciless to it, and even from the distance the vampire girl couldn't help feeling the waves of aggression coming off of it as if telling her to back off, turn around, and leave, and it made her shiver involuntarily. Say, if she could choose to be somewhere in the world, she'd most likely choose _anywhere_ but here. Except for the mall during Christmas sales. Because it was the worst time/place combination ever.

"You don't have to do it," Bonnie assured her softly. "I told you, we got it covered."

She shrugged a little and nodded towards Jeremy who kept scanning the woods around them, listening intently. Not that he could hear what Caroline couldn't but she appreciated the knight-in-shining-armor effort. He looked like he was taking it seriously, big time, and she had to give him that.

"No, it's okay," she breathed out and headed towards the front door, crooked and with the paint peeling off of it. "Just—just let me know if your ancestors decide to kill me or something, okay? I'd like to have a head start on that." Bonnie and Jeremy exchanged worried looks and followed her. "Besides, together we would cover more ground… or, well, pages," she flashed a quick smile over her shoulder.

"I just hope it won't be a complete waste of time," Bonnie sighed, regarding the house warily.

She couldn't make the witches talk if they didn't want to, and they didn't by the looks of it, but she knew for sure they didn't approve of her siding with the vampires, and it made her a little edgy. Kind of like knowing that something wouldn't end well and yet doing it all the same. The world was rather black and white for them, she figured. Maybe because once you were dead you couldn't change your mind about some things, and she didn't really dare to be too persistent in trying to explain that there was, in fact, such concept as a "good" vampire. Damon definitely wasn't on their list of favorite persons, but Bonnie hoped they could sense that Caroline was another case entirely.

Jeremy adjusted his back pack on his shoulder and pushed the door open. "This looks like a start of a horror movie where everyone dies in the end," he commented when it opened with a blood-chilling screech, the rusty hinges protesting with irritation.

Caroline scoffed, noting that he said it with a great deal of excitement, and Bonnie slapped his shoulder and rolled her eyes in a _Can you be more mindless?_ way.

"You can stay outside, we won't be long," Bonnie told her again, seeing how the vampire hesitated on the threshold. "I just want to check on some stuff and then come back later if there is anything worth digging deeper into." She recalled how the spirits deactivated Damon's ring and made him vulnerable to sunlight the moment the stepped inside. She wasn't sure the same thing wouldn't happen to Caroline.

Caroline shook her head, however, and then entered the house after Jeremy. Nothing happened, much to her surprise and relief. The ceiling didn't come falling to her head – for now, at least. She hesitated a little when her foot stepped into the pool of moonlight streaming through the crack in the roof, as if it could hurt her as much as the sun – because what if the witches could do that? – and then let her body relax when her skin didn't burst into flames.

"I can see why it's safe to keep the Grimoirs here," she noted. "This place has this... warning aura." She flinched a little as if the words tasted odd in her mouth, especially after all the times when she confronted Bonnie about those witchy _feelings_ the girl had and told her and Elena about numerous times. Studied half-collapsed staircase leading to the upper level as she followed Jeremy who headed down into the basement with the assurance of a person who knew what he was doing. She hoped he actually did. "So far, it's the second best anti-vampire alarm system after not inviting us in."

"Good," Jeremy beamed at her from across the hall.

"Yeah, there is a chance that no one stole the books," Bonnie echoed behind them.

At the foot of the stars Jeremy fished the flashlight from his backpack and swept the basement with unsteady, dancing light, jerking it from something to another, chasing away the shadows from dusty corners.

The place still bore the signs of Bonnie hiding in here back from when they needed Klaus to think that she was dead before the sacrifice. It wasn't as dirty as Caroline imagined it would be. Old chairs were lined up against the wall and the cobwebs were cleared off. There were candles everywhere – or more like what was left of them. On the boxes and shelves and relict crooked furniture, wax teardrops covering everything around. A couple of blankets were lying on one of the chairs, folded nearly. And it was then that the vampire girl finally noticed stacks of ancient books, shabby leather binds and all, piled in the corner. It looked like some very creepy and very old library… that never had a librarian… or any order whatsoever.

"Wow," she breathed out. "That's… that's a lot of books."

"Ninety three." Bonnie dropped her backpack on the nearest chair. Jeremy found a box of matches in his pocket but Bonnie closed her eyes for about half a second, and then all the candles came to life at once before them. "Would take some time to flip through them all."

"So, what is the agenda, exactly?"

"Anything about the hybrids," Bonnie responded. "I am sure there is nothing in those," she waved her hand to the books, "that would tell us how to kill Klaus. From what I've learned already, they made it pretty clear that the curse was the only way to keep him at bay, and unfortunately it was the only solution they managed to come up with." None of them commented on it, all secretly hoping she was wrong. "But maybe there is something I missed. And I need to check those signs."

"From the crime scene," Caroline nodded, and added. "Heard my Mom talking on the phone last night. They are freaking out about it."

"Because out life is just enough exciting enough already," Bonnie noted. "That's why we're stuck here."

"Because doing homework and playing video games is not cool anymore," Jeremy sneered, shrugging out of his jacket and draping over the back of the chair. He rolled his sleeves up, as if bracing himself for some serious physical labor.

"Like you ever do your homework," Caroline rolled her eyes, making Bonnie chuckle.

"At least it was an option," Jeremy pointed out, amused.

* * *

><p><em>June 10, 1864<em>

_It is sweet and endearing – the way the Salvatores treat me. Like I am something fragile and breakable. Like I am a china doll that needs to be kept in the glass case so that nothing bad could happen to me. In fact, I haven't felt safer in a couple of hundred of years, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. _

_I wasn't sure it was a good idea to come living here from Atlanta. Wasn't sure it was a good enough hiding place, or a place to have a new start if you please. I am now. It had to be done, and right now Mystic Falls is as good as any other place in the universe._

_The Founders are wary but we keep low, and there is nothing and no one to give us away. They do, however, suspect that the "Blood Plague" – as the call vampires – can be back. Three deaths in the woods within one month is a lot for a place where people die from age and diseases but I will make sure it won't happen again. Not soon at least. We don't need them putting vervain in food and water and running around with the stakes when they barely know what they are against. _

_Mystic Falls can be a good place to start all over if we're patient and cautious. And the adoration from the Salvatore brothers is not a bad side effect_.

When the coffee machine beeped, filling the kitchen with rich, bitter scent, Jenna reached for the coffee pot to fill her… umpteenth cup. She had long lost count of them in the past few hours. Had she been human, she'd probably be in a serious danger of caffeine intoxication by now.

She paused by the window for a moment peering into the shadows filling the back yard of the boarding house that had yet to be chased way by the dawn. Everything was still and quiet, which felt a little unsettling compared to her inner turmoil, and Jenna wondered absently when exactly her head was going to explode from all these thoughts and questions she knew would never be answered.

On a last glance outside, she grabbed her mug and climbed back onto the tall stool by the counter where her school papers were piled in a neat stack, forgotten, and a leather book lay open, waiting.

Jenna settled there a while ago, unable to fall asleep for the reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on and not wanting to disturb Alaric. The pending question was the same – why couldn't someone just come out and explain to her what the hell was going on with her life and what was she supposed to do with it? – covered with a thick layer of smaller issues that, at the end of the day, formed a huge snow ball running downhill to crash everything and everyone once it reached the bottom.

She took a sip of coffee and turned the yellowish page carefully, plopping her chin in her hand and propping her elbow on the countertop, her eyes glued to the lines of handwriting made in fading blue ink.

Katherine's diary, because if anyone knew anything about the originals and the rules they played by – beside the Originals themselves – it was her. Or at least that was what Jenna hoped for once the idea popped up in her mind and she went downstairs to dig through the library, knowing that she had definitely seen that particular piece of writing somewhere on the shelves.

It proved being rather pointless, however. She had read about half of it, and there wasn't a single mention of the Originals, or Klaus, or how Katherine ended up in the Salvatore mansion. Was it a part of some grand plan? Was she just desperate to disappear _somewhere_? There was a lot about Stefan and Damon, and how she made fools of them, playing with them like a cat with two lovesick mice. Well, Katherine didn't call it that way, but Jenna couldn't help smirking every now and then, unable to contain herself. She did not see today's Damon in the man Katherine Pierce described on the pages of her diary. And it was kind of amusing. But, sadly, not at all helpful.

Katherine was cautious, and Jenna had to give her that. She knew how to find the words to say the things only people aware of the vampires and the dark side of the world could understand. If only she didn't know anything, Jenna though, she'd take them as… as someone being vague about something ordinary. It was like trying to solve a charade, except that this charade was rather pointless. If Katherine trusted her leather-bound friend with her fears and worries about Klaus, she found a way to cover it up.

It was five thirty in the morning, and soon the house would come to life with muffled grumbles and half asleep people roaming around like a hoard of caffeine-deprived zombies, yawning and wishing someone would cancel the mornings altogether. But Jenna still had some time to wander through Katherine's thoughts and memories, and hope that maybe – maybe! – there still was a chance for all of them to get out of this sinking ship alive.

Rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes, Alaric padded down the carpeted stairs, following the dim light coming from the kitchen, his footsteps completely soundless. Was it even legal to be up this early, for god's sake? He ruffled his hair and stiffed the yawn, wondering how much coffee and RedBull he'd need to make it through the day.

He paused in the entrance when he spotted Jenna sitting on the barstool dressed in his checked boxers and light blue button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and her gaze was cast down as her eyes moved along the lines, her lips parted slightly as she read.

Alaric leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms on his chest. Outside the window, the sky was slowly turning pale blue at the horizon, and the mist started crawling along the ground tangling in the low branches of long forgotten rose bushes at the far end of the yard.

"I think you made the wrong turn," he informed Jenna. "The bedroom is upstairs, third door to the left."

Jenna whipped her head to the sound, startled, and then relaxed and smiled when her eyes landed on him. "Well, it's a big house,' she responded and put her mug down onto the counter before turning around to him. "So easy to get lost."

Chuckling, Alaric shook his head. They watched each other for a few seconds as if having a staring contest before he pushed himself off of the wall and headed towards her across the kitchen. One hand on the counter, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her as a soft sigh escaped Jenna's chest.

"Is everything okay?" He asked her quietly, searching her face, taking note of sleepless "caffeine" gleam and dark circles under her eyes, which made his insides curl.

Jenna wrinkled her nose. "Deadlines." Her gaze flickered towards mostly untouched papers, which was lame, and she knew it.

Alaric hemmed, unconvinced, if only because he could not possibly imagine someone actually learning something at the time of the day when brain was probably incapable of processing any information whatsoever. She batted her eyelashes at him innocently as he eyed her suspiciously, her lips stretching wider under his scrutiny.

In the end, he just shook his head, straightened up and headed to get his own coffee fix, needing it badly to clear his head and set his thoughts straight again. It was rather obvious that something was bothering her, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find the words to ask about it without letting out his own worries, and by assumption, it was the last thing she needed.

Just like Jenna moments ago, he peered out the window and scanned the bushy backyard no one bothered to take care of these days. On the wall to the right from him, the clock was ticking down the seconds but he didn't turn to check what time it was if only because it didn't really matter. The fridge was buzzing softly, the coffee was still brewing, drops falling down to the pot one after another, and the darkness surrounding the house dissolving slowly, clinging with desperation to the walls and dens and corners.

On the moments like this, so ordinary and serene, it was almost impossible to believe that the world around them was anything but normal, as if with the arrival of the sunlight, all the things they knew and all the fears lurking in the darkness were bound to disappear.

On a subtle sigh, he turned away from the window and faced Jenna again. In the pale, dim light on a low-watt lamp, she looked luminous, her creamy skin all but glowing and a soft smile played on her face surrounded by slightly tangled sleep-hair. Her fingers were fiddling mindlessly with the leather cover of what he guessed was one of the Gilbert or Salvatore journals – he couldn't quite tell them apart just like that – as she watched him patiently.

"Well, I hope that your grades are worth it," Alaric said lightly, offering her a small smile.

Jenna caught her bottom lip between her teeth, biting it down. She broke the eye contact and let her gaze roam around the kitchen. Both of them knew that whatever she was doing here at this ungodly hour had little to do with her school. But she appreciated him trying to make it look normal, even though she knew it wasn't easy. However, she still hated that elephant in the room, especially when she had no idea how to make it go away.

"She knew it from the start, you know," Jenna breathed out at last. She brushed her fingers through her hair, then slipped down from the stool and went to put her mug with unfinished coffee in the sink still avoiding his gaze. Her chest raised and fell when she heaved a weary sigh.

"Who?" Alaric asked, confused and not quite certain he was following the train of her thought.

"Miranda." Jenna stared sightlessly outside, her hands closing around the cold edge on the sink that dug uncomfortably into her palms. "She wrote it in her journal that I found in the lake house. I—I read some of it before giving it to Elena." Paused. "Grayson told her everything when the things got serious between them so that she knew what she was signing up for. Which, okay, makes sense." Jenna rubbed her forehead thoughtfully and sighed.

Alaric eyes darted between her and the other journal that apparently didn't belong to Miranda Sommers-Gilbert lying on the table. "Well, I guess he had to," he offered carefully, not quite certain what kind of reaction she expected from him. Jenna's voice was flat and it was impossible to tell how she felt about it.

"Yeah." She looked down. "They decided to keep it quiet because Mystic Falls was a vampire-free zone for over a hundred years. Or at least that's what everyone believed. They planned to tell Elena and Jeremy eventually because the two of them would end up on the Council sooner or later. Of course, no one thought we'd ever end up in a situation we're in now…" She trailed off, her voice dropping.

Alaric put his mug down and walked up to her. He stopped right behind Jenna and ran his hands up and down her arms. "They should have told you," he whispered, leaning his forehead against the back of her head as he breathed in delicate scent of her soft hair. _I should have told you_. "Regardless of how relevant they thought it was. It wasn't right that they didn't."

The darkness outside started to fade, surrendering to the first rays of sun peeking shyly over the horizon line and brushing off puffy clouds that softened the edge between the earth and the sky.

Jenna closed her eyes for a moment. Alaric's heartbeat was fast and loud against her back, like an anchor keeping her here and now. The contracts of cold edge of the sink digging into her hips and the heat of Alaric's body sent a shiver down her spine. "I remember it all now, you know?" Her fingers flexed on the steely surface.

"What?"

She sucked in a breath. "I remember Katherine compelling me." Said after a long pause. "I remember thinking she was Elena and how it was making no sense. How she told me that everyone would be happy if I just went and killed myself." Her voice thickened as if she was choking on her own words. "How I thought that it was wrong but at the same time my mind was trapped in the body that I had no control of. I couldn't break free. I couldn't do anything. Except for taking this knife, and—" She cut off and shook her head.

Alaric went completely rigid behind her, every muscle in his body going stiff as if they were nothing but metal cords. The memory of Jenna lying on the floor in the pool of her own blood, gasping for air and grasping desperately at his hand with weak bloodstained fingers made him sick to the stomach, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

Sitting by her side while Elena dialed hastily 911, trying to explain in breathlessly what happened, her breaking voice nothing but a muffed sound somewhere in the background, empty and meaningless. He had never felt more helpless in his life. Pacing in the hospital corridor unable to stay still even for one goddamned moment because it felt like he was going to explode if he stopped to catch a breath. Praying like never before in all of his years of existence. Looking at the clock on the wall in the waiting room every five seconds as though it could have made the time run faster. Talking to Jeremy and Elena and telling them that everything was going to be okay while being scared to death on the inside.

It was all so fresh in his mind like it happened only yesterday.

He recalled staring at his phone for what seemed like forever, thinking about calling Damon so that they could somehow sneak some vampire blood into the emergency room if things had gone bad. And he also knew he would have done it if there was no other choice, screw the circumstances, screw the choices and free will. Back then, the only thing he could think about was that he could not let her go, end of story.

And then there was relief when a tall tired man finally walked out of the surgery wing, pulling white mask off of his face to tell them she was going to be alright. And how he thought almost hysterically that Jenna Sommers had the worst of luck with aiming right, and thank God for that when it came to self-stabbing.

He remembered sitting for hours in what might have very well been qualified as the most uncomfortable chair ever, barely moving, as he held Jenna's hand while she slept, drugged with painkillers. How he refused to so much a step away from her until she woke up if only to be sure she was actually fine. As if leaving her for half a second could make everything go downhill. How he talked to her all this time in a soundless whisper, pleading her not to give up. How he kept insisting Elena and Jeremy told her everything about the vampires, half a step away from doing it himself – to hell with their permission – because, really, was it worth Jenna's life? And he was not at all willing to risk losing her because of some teenage stubbornness.

How Jenna opened her eyes almost ten hours later and gave him a forced smile, past pain and discomfort, and told him that it wasn't exactly how she wanted the night to end, making Alaric chuckle shakily as his entire body buzzed with relief, and probably gallons of caffeine, too. How he pushed a strand of hair out of her face and told her he would never let her cook again. Only take-out from now on, and plastic dishes.

"I feel like a truck ran over me," she whispered weakly, her fingers flexing around his, "But I still think that I feel better than you look." Which made Alaric let out a short laugh because she was probably right.

How he made sure she always had vervain in her system seeing as how the perfume proved being rather faulty after all.

And then, how he tended to freeze every time Jenna's phone was ringing, fearing there would be more to come. How Jenna told him jokingly over and over again that no one could ever be that stupid to walk into a knife twice in a lifetime.

All of this was too bright and vivid in his memory for comfort, and it totally slipped his mind that she was bound to remember the details of this unfortunate knife incident once she was turned seeing as how the compulsion tended to wear off in that case.

On a sigh, Alaric put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him.

"And that night—" Her gaze went up to his face. "I close my eyes, and I am there again. In the woods, in that ring of fire. It feels so hot I think I might melt like a wax candle." She swallowed. "I can barely think of anything but the smell of blood hanging in the air after Klaus killed this werewolf woman… Jules. And his face…" She swallowed. "I can still feel the stake tearing through my skin and past my ribs and driving right into my heart. It isn't even painful as much as surprising. Except I can't take a single breath, my lungs too small and too weak. The stone beneath my back is cold as ice, and all I can think about is that it wasn't right to die without even saying goodbye to you."

Alaric didn't know what to say, that to think. He was still waking up in the middle of the night with a soundless scream stuck in his throat, reaching out for Jenna to make sure that her miraculous survival wasn't just a figment of his imagination like some panicky part of his mind was telling him.

And all this time she was also living with this hell inside of her.

With his heart racing, he pulled her close as if it was the only way he could shield her from the rest of the world and any trouble waiting for her out there. "Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered.

Jenna encircled his waist with her arms, pressing herself to him, and buried her face in his chest.

"Does it even bother you that you're dating a vampire, Ric? That you're _sleeping_ with a vampire?" She asked quietly after a little while (because of all the elephants, this one was the biggest), not even realizing she had actually said the words until she felt the pattern of his breath change.

Alaric brushed his lips against the top of her head and ran a soothing hand down her back. "Not really," he replied. "What bothers me is that you keep stealing my clothes. Now that is truly frightening."

She let out a muffled snort and half-heartedly attempted to pull back. He dodged her mock punch, caught her hand and kissed her fingers slowly, one by one, when she looked up, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Or that you keep sneaking into the shower with me on the mornings when I am running late, which makes the whole being late thing even worse." Jenna arched her eyebrow, and he added, smiling, "Not that I complain," making her scoff. "Or that I'm losing my mind, and I have no idea what to do about it because I seem to like it too much." His voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. He let go of her hand and traced his index finger down her cheek. "I have nearly lost you more times than I can count, Jenna. I am not going to let it happen again." Ric's eyes searched her face. "Never."

"I'll keep it in mind the next time someone tried to kill me," she promised eagerly.

His lips twitched of the will of their own, before he asked seriously, "You can always talk to me, you know that, right?" And his eyes urged her to nod after some hesitation. "What brought this up?"

Jenna let out a short snicker. "Nothing but the fact that I'm a vampire."

"And I'm a history teacher. We all have our flaws."

That earned Alaric an honest heartfelt laugh.

"I guess reading about how much my sister wanted a normal life for her children set me off a little," she admitted, offering him a small apologetic smile. "I'm failing all over here. First Elena's biological mother turned out being a vampire, and now me. And I don't want to even start thinking about what it's like for you… after Isobel, and…" She bit her lip.

"Hey, hey, stop." Alaric propped her chin on his knuckle. "Look at me." He let out a subtle sigh, his features softening. "I know it's a twist joke of fate about history repeating itself, and I'm so sorry that you have to sort out the mess that wasn't yours to start. But it wasn't your choice, and it wasn't your fault, and I don't' want you to blame yourself for something that wasn't in your control." He paused to let the words sink in. "I love you. I love you more than I ever imagined was possible. And nothing and no one can change that." He made a dramatic pause, barely holding his lips from twitching up, and added with as much seriousness as he could muster, "Unless you put your hands on my checked blue shirt." An apprehensive once-over followed, "Even though I love the view."

"You're unbelievable," Jenna groaned, bumping her forehead into his shoulder.

"I hope so."

She giggled, her eyes going up to his face again. "So, about that shower idea—" she started.

The corners of Alaric's lips tugged up, forming into a wide contemplative grin. "What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know." Jenna rose on her tow to brush her mouth against his, unable to stop smiling. "But I'm sure we can make something out."

* * *

><p>Elijah pushed the door open without knocking and stepped into the richly furnished parlor of the house his brother was currently occupying while its proper owners were probably searching for a smaller residence failing to repay the mortgage for this one. He looked around, taking note of rich decorations, delicate curtains on the tall windows and perfectly polished redwood floorboards that alone must have cost half of the house price. Klaus could be arrogant, selfish and immature as a six-year old sometimes… most of time, but he had perfect taste – that was something no one could deny.<p>

Soft sounds of a classical music were coming from the depths of the house, filling each and every corner with some floating, light atmosphere. He had always appreciated Chopin as well, Elijah mused as he moved towards the source of it – down the corridor, through the dining room, until he reached the living room slash library with the glass doors leading into the spacious patio furnished with wicker chairs and a small breakfast table with a surface made of glass. Not that he came to appreciate the design features of the place.

The music was, apparently, coming from the built-in stereo system with the speakers located all over the house by the looks of it, seeing as how it seemed to be streaming from everywhere at once.

Klaus was pacing along the cold fireplace, his eyes glued to a few pieces of paper clutched in his hand so tight his knuckles had gone white. Whatever there was about these papers, it made his brother so antsy that Elijah's curiosity piqued instantly. Klaus didn't look upset, he noted. Thoughtful, and that was strange enough seeing as how he normally _knew_ things, not needing to ponder them.

At the sounds of the footsteps, Klaus stopped and turned. "Brother," he greeted Elijah, lowering his hand and squaring his shoulders, and Elijah failed to see whether he interrupted something or not. Meanwhile Klaus walked up to the stereo system and lowered the volume of the violin concert, leaving it float somewhere in the background. "What can I do for you?"

Elijah scanned the room, noticing a real piano in the corner, huge antique thing, and a delicate china set in the ornately carved cabinet. He eyes roamed along the paintings on the walls and rows and rows of books on the shelves, most of them collection editions, obviously.

Outside, the sun was filtering through the torn and scattered clouds, in and out every couple of minutes, throwing misshaped shadows on the cold ground covered with shriveled grass. It looked like no one took proper care of the garden for quite a while, and the trees and bushes were left untouched and abandoned, probably panicking from lack of attention, their branches swaying in chilly wind. It looked sad and oddly appropriate on that cold, cloudy day.

"I thought we had an agreement, Nicklaus," Elijah said evenly, locking his gaze on his brother's face. "I help you through with the sacrifice, I lead you to the doppelganger and make sure she makes it alive until you need her. You, in return, promised to disclose the location of our siblings, if I am not mistaken."

Klaus's lips twitched a tiny bit, although it was hard to say whether this smirk had any amusement in it at all. "Why, brother," he started, "your desire to part ways with me hurts."

"I am not _desiring_ to part ways with you," Elijah disagreed. "But a deal is a deal."

"Don't I know that?" Klaus muttered more to himself than to his brother. "Well, I apologize, but as you might know, I had some pressing issues to deal with. Still have," he corrected himself. "Everything else just happened to slip my mind, I'm afraid."

"Any chance of it slipping back in, somehow?" Elijah's brow arched elegantly.

That made Klaus let out an actual, full-hearted laugh. "I don't remember you being so impatient, Elijah."

"A century or two of waiting can get on your nerves," he observed.

"Well, I will try to put it in my tight schedule, although I'm sure you understand the order of my priorities this very moment."

"I've heard of it," Elijah nodded primly. "Seeing as how I was the one who found you the witch you hoped would solve the mystery of Jenna Sommers. Any news?"

"I'm working on it," Klaus responded vaguely.

"What do you want from her, exactly?" He asked mildly, as if it was mere curiosity and nothing else.

Not that it was anything else, Elijah reminded himself. It wouldn't be wise to tangle into this story. But he had Elena's face before his mind's eye, so betrayed it hurt, and that was something he hadn't felt in so long he almost forgot he was once capable of any such feelings at all. He remembered Jenna's dead body lying on the stone altar, and how wrong it looked, how he couldn't stop thinking that it was 95% his fault that this family kept getting wounded over and over again, going through hell for nothing.

It stung, and he couldn't turn it off or make it go away. And he knew that if this moment he would just walk away, he would have to live forever with this guilt he didn't even know he was capable of.

"I'm not sure yet," Klaus responded thoughtfully. He picked up paper knife from the table and turned it in his hand, pieces of room reflecting in the razor-sharp blaze. His glance locked with Elijah's eyes again. "But I will find out soon."

* * *

><p>Standing behind her, Alaric placed his hands on top of Jenna's that were holding the crossbow, positioning the weapon properly.<p>

"Lift it up a little," he said, bending down until his eyes were on the same level as hers. "Try to look at the tip of the stake and the aim at the same time."

Jenna shifted, adjusting her stance, and closed one eye to align her gaze with the oak right ahead of her that served as a, well, enemy.

"Relax your shoulders," Alaric instructed. "Good," when she did. "You're more likely to miss the target if you're too stiff."

"Really? And how does it work in a 'Oh my God, I'm going to die' situations?"

"You panic and run away screaming?" He supposed uncertainly.

"Probably," Jenna let out a short laugh.

It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and the two of them ended up in the back yard of the boarding house where the wind was toying lazily with the treetops and a thick scent of grass and earth hung in chilly air after it became obvious that doing anything like that inside the house would inevitably lead to destroying half of it. There probably was a limit to how many broken lamps and torn pillows the Salvatores would close their eyes to before throwing both of them out.

"Hey, don't you think that there is something suicidal about a vampire learning how to kill other vampires?"

"I'll make sure you won't point this thing at yourself," Alaric promised with mock seriousness.

Scoffing, Jenna tried to elbow him in the ribs which he dodged effortlessly as he reached to ruffle her hair, breaking into a hearty laugh at her frustration, his arm snaking around her waist to hold her before she could turn or break free, and he tucked his head to nuzzle her neck, which made Jenna giggle when his breath tickled her skin.

"Get a room," an annoyed voice carried across the lawn, breaking through the peaceful sounds of the bird chirpings.

Both of the paused momentarily, and turned to see Damon crossing the back yard, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his leather jacket, the wind messing his raven-black hair.

"Are you lost?" Alaric asked mildly, putting his hand up to shield his face from the sun.

Damon ignored him completely, even though his lips quirked a little. One of his eyebrows cocked at the sigh of the crossbow. "So, we're killing the trees now, huh?"

"Only the bad ones," Jenna reassured him.

"Just be careful with that thing, okay?" He eyed the weapon in her hands with a great deal of suspicion as if it could start shooting sporadically… which Jenna was sure was his idea of her crossbow wielding skills. Which wasn't that far off from the truth because, apparently, having strength and speed wasn't much of an advantage when you knew little about how to control them.

"Yeah, no need to waste the stakes," Alaric muttered, amused.

"Thank, dude," Damon grimaced, scolding him. He gave Ric a speculative once-over, then shook his head. "You, so whipped." His voice all _You're such a lost cause, man_.

"He's just jealous," Alaric informed Jenna in a tragic whisper, making Damon roll his eyes.

"So I see."

The older vampire regarded her. "I liked you better as a human. You were nicer."

Jenna's brows arched. "I wish I could return the sentiment, but—"

"Whatever." Damon observed their battlefield with obvious disinterest. "Speaking of sentiments, did Elijah say anything useful? Apart form what we already know. Like, that Klaus is bad and stuff, which is written all over him anyway."

She turned to give Alaric a quizzical look, but he raised his hands up instantly.

"I didn't tell him anything."

"Thin walls," Damon beamed at them. "The house is practically made of paper." Which went for _I was eavesdropping shamelessly_ in Damon-talk.

"Right." Jenna put the crossbow on top of a three-foot tall stone fence or a part of the wall running across half of the back yard, and leaned against it, her arms folded across her chest. "No." Her gaze flickered to Alaric briefly before fixing on Damon. "Just that Klaus has something on his mind—"

"Which is exactly when we already know," the vampire muttered with annoyance.

"And that he's not trusting Elijah enough to share his plans."

"Shocker," Damon snickered. "Well, did he at least tell you what happened at the lake house?"

Jenna tensed, a shade of confusion and worry ran across her face. She straightened up. "What are you talking about?"

"That memory-loss-time-lapse-blackout thing," Damon responded impatiently. "Did Elijah tell you if there was anything his brother compelled you to forget? Or is it that a big bad secret, too?"

She froze. "If he did – _what_?"

It was only then that Damon finally noticed Alaric gesturing wildly at him to shut the hell up, standing behind Jenna. His hands fell down and his face turned white by the time Damon finished and they all fell silent as if someone pressed mute button and killed all sounds in the world.

"You… didn't tell her," Damon said at last, which was more of a statement than a question, his eyes locked on Alaric's rather pained face.

"Didn't tell me what?" Jenna turned. "Ric?" Her heart thudding with dull, hollow sound that echoed through her entire body.

"I think there's—I've got to—" The vampire threw a quick glance over his shoulder. "I'm sure there's a phone… Guess, I've got to—I better—"

Neither of them paid attention to his vague mumbling and hasty retreat.

"What was he talking about?" Jenna asked, her voice trembling slightly, each sound forced as if an iron hand was holding her throat in a dead grip.

Alaric swallowed. "Jenna—"

"What was he talking about, Ric?"

There was no way around it, wasn't there?

… "I can't believe it," Jenna breathed out when Alaric finished filling her in a few impossibly long minutes later. Not that there was much to tell.

Yet, each word felt like a punch in the gut, knocking all air out of her lungs over and over and over again and making the world spin around her like a crazy carousel, and all she could do was stare into nowhere right before herself, which was the only thing that kept her from screaming.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," she forced out. It felt like everything was falling apart around her all over again.

"Jenna—" Alaric started knowing how vain and useless it was. She looked so hurt, so utterly betrayed that he wanted to slap himself for being the cause of it. Again. And she sure didn't need his lame and meaningless apologies.

"How could you, Ric? How could you not tell me something like that?" She swallowed, well aware of her voice quivering with emotions and the tears welling up in her eyes, unable to control it. And not quite giving a damn, either. "After everything that happened." It felt like some unrealistic nightmare she suddenly found herself trapped in, incapable of waking up from it. Was it true? Was it a dream? For all she knew, it couldn't possibly be happening… but then again, all that torturous, consuming pain growing inside of her must have woken her up. Instead, it was only getting worse with every breath.

"I wasn't sure."

"But you were sure enough to share it with Damon. Yes, right." She nodded, and took a breath in desperate hope to lessen the pain pooling in her chest and spreading all over her, making it impossible to think, turning her into a ball of concentrated agony. She blinked when unbidden tear slid down her cheek and wiped it away angrily.

"Jenna, please—"

"I thought—God, I was such a fool thinking I could finally trust you. That we were done with all those secrets. You promised me…" She cut off and shook her head, as though realizing how ridiculous it sounded. She refused to see how miserable he looked, choosing to ignore that haunted look in his eyes. She could not and was not going to see his point of view. It was too much to ask for. She was sick and tired of it, of having to see the situation through someone else's eyes when no one, clearly, bothered to look at it her way.

"Jenna… could you please listen to me?" Alaric made a tentative move towards her, his voice pleading.

She all but jerked backwards.

"I think I've heard enough. Just leave me alone."

And once again, he was watching her leave, angry and confused, and deeply hurt. And there was nothing he could possibly do to make it all go away. In fact, all he could do was stand there, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him so hard it was almost impossible to breathe, and wonder if maybe he was a clinical idiot, considering how he kept doing the same thing and expecting different results. And curse himself for every single wrong decision he'd ever made in his life.

When Alaric finally forced himself to return back into the house about an hour later – because he had noticed at last that his fingers went numb with cold, surprised he was still capable of feeling anything at all – he found Damon in the parlor, pouring scotch into low, round tumbler.

He looked up when Alaric walked in. "I'm sorry, man. I thought—"

Alaric dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "My fault." He heaved a weary sigh and tossed the crossbow onto the chair by the door, and then sunk onto the couch and ran his hands through his hair. "Should've known better."

Damon walked up to him and handed him his glass, which Ric ignored without sparing a single glance at it.

"She'll cool off," the vampire told him optimistically, and there was genuine apology in his voice, which was a rare thing and thus more frightening, like an omen.

"No, she's right." He rubbed his eyes wearily before looking up at Damon. "I'm a dick that makes the same mistake without leaning a lesson after, I don't know, fifty time, and hurts the woman he loves because, apparently, he doesn't know how not to do it." A harsh and humorless laugh broke the air and scattered around bouncing off the walls until if finally died in the corners or a huge room. "It takes special talent to fuck up everything I care about, you know?" Ric dropped his hands to his lap and shook his head in honest to God disbelief. _How_ was it possible?

"Aw, come on! Is it really that big of a deal? It's not like you—"

"You don't get it, Damon," Alaric interrupted him. "It's not about not telling her this one thing. Or… or something else. With Jenna, it's all about trust. She puts it above all. And I have already overstepped the border one too many times."

"Look, she freaked out. Who wouldn't? I mean you did, too. And if we're right, and Klaus was there and did something…" He trailed off and shrugged.

"Point is, I could have avoided it," Alaric rose to his feet. "Logically speaking, there should be a limit to how many times one could screw up before it stops being possible."

"Like in video games," Damon brightened up.

"Yeah, except that you die on the video games. Which sounds a bit extreme." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I should go talk to her." His gaze went up for a moment as if he could see her through the wood and concrete into the room above them. "See if she feels like throwing a chair at me." He looked at the vampire again. "If we were on a video game, it would be the moment when I'd run out of lives."

"You're lucky you have a magical ring, then. Even your girlfriend can't kill you… permanently."

"You're missing the point, Damon."

With most of the crowd hanging out at the Grill or elsewhere, the house seemed unnaturally silent. He couldn't even recall the last time he wasn't hearing the voices around.

Once on the second floor, Alaric paused before the door to the guest bedroom he was sharing with Jenna, uncertain of what to do. To knock? She'd probably tell him to go away. Yet, simply walking in seemed like a far worse idea, like an intrusion into her personal space. What if Damon was right? What if all she needed was some time and he was going to make things worse by barging in there? Or… of what if he was a fool to not follow her into the house right away? God, he was going crazy.

He could practically feel her a few feet away from him, even though he couldn't make out a single sound on the other side of the door, what with his heart pounding so fast and loud it was basically deafening him.

There was nothing but a piece of wood between them, and yet it felt like they were thousands of miles apart, separated by a thick wall of ice.

He was wrong, Alaric thought. What else was new? He was stupid, and knew that there was no excuse for what he'd done. There were no words he could possibly say to make it better, to make her see his point if only because there actually was no point, aside from his wanting to keep her as far from this mess as possible.

Yeah, just remember how perfectly it worked the first time around.

Alaric hesitated, staring at the door knob for what felt like endlessly long time, desperately wishing there was a way to turn back the time and undo all of this so that he could talk to her. So that he would never have to see her looking back at him with so much disappointment that it equaled to having her stab him in the heart.

It wasn't supposed to be like that between them. Not after everything they'd been through, after everything they managed to overcome. He wished he wasn't such a perfect definition of a moron.

_Jenna's a good person. She deserves the best, and I'm gonna make sure she gets it. _

So far, he managed to get her kidnapped and killed and turned into a vampire, that's not to mention all those times when he had lied to her, knowing perfectly well that it was the only thing she couldn't stand. In fact, the only way for him to do something good to her would be to stay the hell away from her, apparently. He should have stayed away from the start. Had he done that, maybe everything would happen differently. Maybe she'd still be human instead of having to deal with her entire world turned upside down.

At last, Alaric signed, turned the knob and pushed the door open. If she was going to throw something big and heavy at him – he deserved it.

"Look, Jenna, I was an idiot," he started, stepping inside. "But can we just…" He trailed off.

She did not throw her reading lamp at him, regardless of how justified it would have been. She did not so much as acknowledge his presence, save for the barest of pauses Alaric wasn't even sure he saw. For all he knew it was his wishful thinking multiplied by his imagination. Instead, she continued folding the clothes that lay piling up on the bed, the drawers open and empty, and putting them in a bag propped right there beside the pillows, her movements brisk and sure as though she couldn't wait to get it over with.

Alaric stopped in the doorway, puzzled. Whatever he expected to find, it definitely wasn't what he was seeing now, all half-formed plans he'd come up with in his mind falling apart before he knew it.

She didn't stop. Didn't turn, although when she reached to pick up another piece of clothing, he couldn't help noticing that her fingers were trembling slightly.

"What are you doing?" He asked dumbly, like there was any other explanation of what was going on beside the obvious.

"We're going home," Jenna said without so much as sparing a single glance his way. "Elena, Jeremy and I. We won't be living here anymore."

She did not just say that. She did _not_.

Slowly, Alaric forced himself further into the room and closed the door behind his back.

Jenna was right there, almost within his reach, and all he wanted to do was to cross that three-step distance between them, put his arms around her and hold her close until her voice lost that frightening hollowness and tight coolness that felt like a touch of ice against his skin. And beg for forgiveness until he stopped feeling like the biggest jerk ever known to humankind.

He held back, however, his fingers curling into his palms, scared of saying or doing the wrong thing to make the things even worse. If, of course, there was such thing as worse. As if they were standing on thin ice, and any movement, or even sound, could make it break under the weight of their unresolved issues, and they would drown in black freezing water, too tired to struggle for their lives.

"Don't," he blurted when the realization fully sank in. "Jenna, please, don't do it." His mind racing feverishly, trying to come up with… something. "It's my fault. I screwed up, and I am so, so sorry. But please, talk to me. Let me explain."

Yeah, like he could explain lying. Alaric winced at how pathetic it sounded even to his own ears. Okay, it wasn't lying, exactly. Not telling – more like it. Not that it was making things any better. Worse, maybe. But definitely not better.

Jenna didn't respond. She simply continued her packing routine as if he wasn't in the room at all. As if he wasn't on the same planet. Her one and only intention as clear as it could get.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry, I should have talked to you instead of Damon," Alaric started again, even though she clearly didn't want to hear any of his lame excuses or reasons or other crap he knew couldn't help. "I should have told you. I swear to God, I don't know if this Klaus thing is true. I didn't want to scare you, and... and I was wrong. And you're right about being mad. And if you—" he stumbled choking on the words that stuck in his throat. "If you can't stand the idea of being around me so much, I'll leave. It would only be fair. Just—just please, stop it."

Jenna paused, her fingers flexing on her black sleeveless shirt so tight that her knuckles had gone white. She closed her eyes for a moment, struggling to keep her breath even. His voice was worn and exhausted, and for a moment she just wanted to burst out crying and fall into his arms, screw logic and common sense.

It was unbelievable how this man could hurt her so bad she'd want to die to stop it, and yet it would not change a thing about how she felt about him. And God help her, but it was the most frightening thing she had ever felt in her life. Except that… except that he kept chipping bits and pieces off her that rock of trust, and Jenna feared that soon there would be nothing left, and she would end up being a broken pile of nothing.

She shoved the shirt into the bag as if it was the cause of all troubles, not quite caring about crumpling it or whatever, she turned to face him at last, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Well, she couldn't do much about it either.

"It's not you, Ric."

Which sounded like the worst cliché in the world. Even more so when coming from the vampire. _It's not you, it's me_. And oldest and lamest, too. Never having said it before – points for that! – she just officially joined the club. But at least her voice was semi-stable, and even almost calm and composed. As calm and composed as she could muster as long as no one could see the explosion of feelings inside of her. More points for not letting it show!

She locked her gaze with his, ignoring the leap of her heart and dull, intense ache in her chest.

"I can't keep living like that. I can't stay here anymore. I can't wait for something horrible to happen any moment, and I am sick of hiding and being scared all the time." She paused to take a breath and compose herself again. "I want my life back, Ric. Or whatever is left of it at least. I owe this much to Jeremy and Elena." Her voice dropped a little, becoming soft and rueful. "That's why we're moving back home."

She had a point, and Alaric had to give her that. After all, wasn't he the one who strove the most for pieces of normality in life? Obviously, the whole situation wasn't fun for Jenna, for all of them, and maybe it wasn't such a bad idea—

Okay, it was a horrible idea, what with God knew how many Originals, leave alone ordinary vampire – jeez! – lurking around. The Gilberts' residence was just as safe as the boarding house, but not nearly as well-equipped, and both Elijah and Klaus had already proved being able to get inside any house should they feel like it. Here, at least, they had two vampires who sort of knew how to deal with it and were ready for it.

Yet, Jenna's voice was firm and certain, and it didn't look like Alaric was in any position to argue whatsoever.

Slowly, he nodded, biting back his protests. Well, it was better than he thought it would be. He was reluctant to feel relieved because they obviously were only half way through solving their issue, but he still couldn't help being able to breathe more freely, his lungs no longer clasped in a tight grip of panic, even thought there was something in the back of his mind that kept him from thinking that the crisis was over.

"Okay," he said. "If this is what you want, we'll do it."

Jenna broke the eye contact and studied the faded carpet at her feet before her eyes went up to his once again.

"About that—" She paused, making his heart plummet and then jump up until it was beating somewhere in his throat, basically suffocating him. "You and I… I think we need a break, Ric."

_~Day one, day one, start over again._

_Step one, step one, I'm barely making sense_

_For now I'm faking it 'til I'm pseudo-making it_

_From scratch, begin again_

_But this time I as "I", and not as "we"_

"_Not As We" – Alanis Morissette~_

**To be continued…**

* * *

><p>As always, comments are always welcome!<p>

Also, for those of you who made it this far – because I know, A LOT of words to go through – there's a small soundtracky/spoilery bonus: www[.]youtube[.]com /watch?v=ratkdM9gyqQ

Not sure you'll understand the spoilery part until we actually get there a few chapters later, but… enjoy anyway!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note:** Okay, I decided not to be a bitch about this story. I mean I am still writing it anyway. Updates make it harder to break it into chapters though because normally I don't really bother with that but…

The truth is, there is a fanfic in Supernatural fandom that I am a little bit obsessed with. In a – I read it 50 times at least – way. The story is beyond brilliant. And it has never been finished. Yeah, that's my problem. I read those 7 chapters more times than I can count and I still have no idea how it's going it end because obviously it is not going to be finished seeing as how it was last updated over 3 years ago. I tried contacting the author with no result, which is… well, a shame, really.

I seriously doubt anyone can possibly be interested in my writing this much, but just in case… I don't want to leave anyone hanging, and like I said, I am writing in anyway.

This chapter is small – smaller than my usual stuff but I hope it's okay.

And also, I would like to thank everyone, and apologize. I behaved like a petulant child, and it is not right. Thank you for your kind worlds of encouragement. They really help me going.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

_~It seems the more we talk_

_The less I have to say_

_Let's put our differences aside._

_I wanted to make you proud_

_But I just got in your way,_

_I found a place where I can hide_

"_Good Enough" by Lifehouse~_

Stop. Rewind. Replay.

She did not just say that, did she? Of course she didn't.

Alaric must have heard her wrong. He must have misunderstood her. In his mind, he ran her words on repeat. And then again. And one more time, and they still weren't making any sense. The world shifted around him, closing in to the size of a pinhead and the sound of his frantic, panicked heartbeat, so loud he was sure that everyone in a ten mile radius could hear it, too.

"Do you—" he started, breaking off to clear his throat that was so dry he was barely able to produce any sound at all. His eyes searched her face for comfort and reassurance, finding neither. "Do you want to break up?"

The question nearly knocked the ground from beneath Jenna's feet. She didn't think of it that way, no, and coming from his mouth, the words sounded frightening and somewhat final, as if having some dark shade of premonition to them, and Jenna's stomach coiled. She absolutely did not mean _that_, and it nearly made her laugh at the ridiculousness of his assumption.

"No, I want us to take a pause," she said instead, her voice surprisingly flat, emotionless. There really was no way of making it sound better, was it? Keeping eye contact proved being next to impossible, and her gaze wandered. "Everything happened so fast… I need it, Ric. I need to figure some things out for myself, find my ground again." She exhaled, feeling drained and empty, as though all those tears washed away any strength she had left.

He saw it coming, didn't he? He did, Alaric thought blankly. At least some part of him did. Sadly, it was a much smaller part than the one that completely refused to process and comprehend any of what Jenna had just said.

He wanted to say no, they didn't need any breaks, or pauses, or whatever. That they would deal with it, just like they had dealt with everything else from vampire ex-boyfriends to vampire ex-wives to John Gilbert that deserved to be classified under a separate pain in the ass category. After everything they'd been through, there was no way they wouldn't get through this crisis as well. He wanted to tell her that he loved her and couldn't lose her like that. That it was wrong, a mistake they had no right for because what they had was worth fighting for. how could she even think about letting it go like that? That they had no right to give up now, not after everything they overcame. That they were stronger than that.

That if she was mad at him – and he assumed that she was – he could relocate to the couch for the time being. Figuratively speaking, because there still were, like, five spare rooms. After all, he succeeded in making all possible and impossible mistakes ever since they started dating. But at the same time, there was nothing else in the world that he wanted to work more than this relationship. God, they could just talk it through, couldn't they?

Instead, he stayed right where he was, taking his time to figure out how not to die right there and then, his mind a wild chaos of thoughts he couldn't grasp. After everything he had been through in the past couple of years, he thought he'd reached the limit of how much pain one person could endure. Well, apparently, not even close. Who could have thought that a few words could basically kill?

What could he say if every single word in his mouth felt so damn wrong?

"I had no right to keep anything from you," he murmured in the end, feeling tired and defeated.

Jenna's gaze shifted upwards and she shook her head.

"No, it's not that. You meant good. I get it." Kind of. Sort of. Maybe sometime in the future. She averted her gaze again before fixing her eyes on his one more time. "I look at you, and I see a raw steak, Ric. Half the time I wake up at night from the nightmare in which I rip your throat out. And I _like_ it. Not the nightmares. The idea of sucking you dry. Because it feels natural." Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed past it. "Because it's what I do. And every time I fear that it wasn't just a dream, that maybe you're lying there in a pool of blood."

Was that it?

He frowned. Took his time to study her, unbelieving, not quite sure if he was more relieved or surprised or baffled, his mind slowly processing the fact that maybe she didn't hate his guts with passion.

"I don't care about any of this!"

For heaven's sake, it was one stupid dream! The one that seriously freaked Jenna out – it freaked her out more than it did him, even if it was Ric who ended up being attacked and bruised in the end – but only a dream nonetheless. He knew she took it hard. He could feel it with his skin – her guilt, her fear of not being able to trust herself because she literary had no idea what to expect from her body that felt foreigner and odd and out of place.

But Alaric didn't care. And he also knew that he would never let her do anything to herself or someone else. In fact, it hurt him to know that she didn't trust him on that. That she didn't trust him to help her through with this… however long it could possibly take. It didn't matter. He just wanted to be with her, end of story.

"I do!" She pushed her hair out of her face. The shell of her resolve cracked, and her voice was quivering, forced past the burning lump in her throat as her eyes stung with welling tears. "And the fact that I have to question every word you say is not helping."

His shoulders slumped. Because, hey, she was right! And he totally deserved it. "Jenna… Look, okay, I didn't mean it to be like that. I had to tell you, and I am sorry for being stupid enough not to do it—"

"I had right to know!" She sucked in a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You—all of you—you were there for me when all of this happened, and I really appreciate it, Ric." She tried to sound calm and even, failing miserably. "But I can't let someone else live my life for me. I need to understand who I really am, and where we—you and I—stand. Without it, I will be… stuck, and I have already spent enough time not knowing what my life really is."

They fell silent for a few moments.

"Are you sure it's what you want, Jenna?" Alaric asked in a low, hoarse voice, having no idea what was holding him back from screaming. His gaze searched her features for a sign of residue, because if she wasn't as tough as she meant to look, then maybe he could try to find the words to make her change her mind.

Nothing.

"It is what I need, Ric."

To that, all he could say was, "Okay." Because she kind of already said the rest.

And so they stood there, two feet and thousands of miles apart.

* * *

><p>There was one thing about being a police officer that most people didn't understand – you could never get used to death. No matter how many times you have to look past it, pretend it is nothing but a case file with a number and a few sheets of paper with dry facts, it is always there, always. The pain and the loss, another life taken away before its time – always beneath the surface, being thin veil you need to keep closed at all times. Eventually, you would learn to keep distance but you would never stop feeling. Not really.<p>

All these thoughts swirled in Sheriff Forbes's head as she pulled to the curb behind another squad car and killed the engine. She took a deep breath, her fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel for a few moments, and then pushed the door open knowing all too well that staying in the car would hardly change the terrible reality that was about to be thrown right at her with the force strong enough to knock of her off of her feet. Definitely not something to look forward to, she thought absently.

It was pre dusk and the sky just started turning purplish at the horizon. The air rushed inside, cool and fresh. It ruffled her short blonde hair and filled the inside of the car that bore a lingering smell of coffee with unmistakable scent of spring.

Liz reached automatically for her gun, just to make sure it was safely tucked into the holster on her waist – a habit she developed quite a short time ago after nearly being killed a few times – and then headed across the neatly mowed lawn towards a regular suburban two-storey house hiding behind old, massive oaks. The house that was now illuminated by the red and blue flares coming from two police cars – never a pretty picture – and it made her stomach coil familiarly.

It wasn't that Mystic Falls was a quiet town, but up until recently the worst that she had to deal with were occasional car accidents, drunk fights on a Saturday night and bored teens breaking into the school just for the hell of it, or hanging out at the cemetery and drinking beer. All of that required more paperwork than it was worth but it was her life for nearly twenty years, and it was okay. Now, however, every time her phone rang, Liz couldn't help hesitating for a moment or two before picking it up in order to brace herself for whatever was waiting for her on the other end of the line.

And that was _before_ – before her own daughter had been turned into a vampire – oh God! – which was making Liz feel like the entire world had turned upside down and was now slowly falling apart right before her eyes. She still hadn't dealt with it, and it was hovering over her, dark and inevitable. What was she supposed to do about it, anyway? Kill her only child? Hell, no! But... but just going on like nothing happened was beyond her either. And the weight of decisions she knew she would never be able to make was pressing down on her making it hard to breathe and think.

Everything she'd been doing her entire life – it was all to protect her baby from this nightmare, to protect the people of this town from the horror of the vampire reality. But not it was all thrown at her as if some powers that be were laughing at her futile attempts, making her feel completely lost and powerless.

She walked up the four steps that creaked softly beneath her weight, crossed the porch and headed through the open door following the sound of muffled conversation coming from the depth of the house. Automatically, she took note of the beige carpet in the hallway and framed pictures on the walls, smiling faces, moments frozen in time. Mixed with heavy uneasiness in her chest, those happy photos made her shiver a little on the inside.

It was then that she registered a sound in the back of her mind that she couldn't quite place at first, what with being too busy with expecting the worst from this day. Now, though, she realized that it was a quiet, soft whimpering coming from the room across the hall, and it made her heart wrench.

One of her deputies glanced over his shoulder at the sounds of Sheriff's solid footsteps and waved a hand at her, motioning to her to come over.

"What do we have?" She asked, unable t control the weary tone of her voice.

"A neighbor across the street showed up to babysit the kid and found the door open." Deputy Ryan, a tall guy in his mid thirties, skinny as a stick, waved if a little vaguely, although Liz didn't miss the fact that his hand was trembling slightly. "Found the dad and called us immediately. Mother and baby are upstairs. We didn't let the girl there, she's shaken as is." He cleared his throat. "She didn't see or hear out of ordinary."

Liz nodded, feeling the headache starting to form in the back of her skull, and he brows came together in deep furrow. Here's to having two days without major drama. It was too good to be true, wasn't it?

The other officer with the face paler than normal muttered something into the walkie-talkie and stepped aside to let her peek into the room that turned out being a library of some sort.

Liz stepped forward and paused in the entry fighting the nausea that rose in her stomach, grateful for whatever kept her from having lunch today. God bless paper work.

It wasn't the sight of the body practically shredded to pieces after being drained of blood, or at least that was what Liz suspected judging by the grey pallor of the man's skin, that made her swallow part a lump in her throat. Not even the crimson splatter of blood on bright yellow carpet, so absurdly out of place. No. What made her freeze to the spot and all but gasp was a line of symbols drawn on light maroon silk wallpaper just above fireplace, the streaks of blood running down and forming small pools on the mantelpiece among framed photos and snow globes.

"Oh god," Liz breathed out, unable to contain herself, her head spinning. "Oh god," she repeated.

* * *

><p>It was in the air. A feeling. A sensation. Something that was making Jenna's skin prickle and tingle, like a touch of something cool. Like a current running through her body, her every nerve being a wire. As if the tips of her fingers were going to start sparking any moment. As if the whole house was enveloped in an electric field.<p>

She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and kept her gaze locked on Bonnie who stood in the middle of the hallway, her eyes closed and her mouth moving soundlessly as she balanced a massive encyclopedia-sized book in her hands. And maybe it was just her, but Jenna could have sworn that the ancient parchment pages were swaying slightly in the breeze. And the fact that the air remained completely still around them made her skin crawl. It was one thing to know that Bonnie was a witch, that most of her ancestors were. But it was something entirely different to actually see – and _feel_ – her work, which was if a little unnerving. Eerie.

Jenna threw a quick look at Jeremy standing motionless beside her, basically holding his breath, more curious than anything by the looks of it as he was probably wondering if their plan was going to work. To the right from her, Elena stood still and tense, her brows drawn together in a small frown and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. In near complete silence Jenna easily picked up on three frantic heartbeats.

Absently, she noted in the back of her mind that the temperature around them dropped by a few degrees and the sunlit hall started feeling rather cool by the moment. Minutes ago, the air around them smelled of coffee and wood and lemon furniture polisher. Now, though, it was filled with the scent of grass and soil and ozone freshness as if they were all caught up in the middle of a thunderstorm and the ceiling above their heads was going to break into a downpour any moment.

Bonnie's eyes snapped open all of a sudden, almost startling her, and Jenna let out the breath she didn't even notice she was holding.

The girl blinked once blankly, and her glance became focused. She exhaled as if letting go of some tension, then looked down at the book in her hands before shifting her gaze up again. It went from Jeremy to Elena to Jenna to Jeremy again, lingering on the latter for a second or two.

"It's done," she said at last, offering them a small unsure smile as though she didn't quite believe it herself.

"So, you did it?" Jeremy stepped forward, sounding excited.

"Yep." Bonnie slapped the book close, obviously relieved, and a small cloud of dust from old pages rose into the air. "I revoked all invitations." Her eyes fixed on Elena. "No vampire can come into this house without being invited… again."

"And we will make sure to be picky this time," Jenna pointed out.

"Aren't we always?" Jeremy snorted.

"Uh-huh."

"Just think twice before doing anything," Bonnie said, giving Elena a meaningful look. "Especially now."

The line of Elena's shoulders slumped a little. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. Thank you, Bonnie. Really."

"No problem." Bonnie's gaze went to Jenna. "You be careful, guys, okay?"

Jenna nodded, and offered her a reassuring smile. "Thanks."

"Well," Bonnie looked at all of them in turns one more time. "My job is done here. I should—I better go now."

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Jeremy suggested hurriedly. "We're having take-out junk food, you'll love it." Jenna smacked him on the shoulder. "What? She will!"

Jenna rolled her eyes. "So not the point."

"Can't," Bonnie breathed out with genuine regret. "I promised my dad to be home for dinner. We hadn't really seen much of each other lately."

"Oh, okay." Jeremy's shoulders sagged down in disappointment which he kind of tried to hold back, with limited success. "Maybe some other time then," he added as a lopsided boyish grin spread across his face.

"Of course," Bonnie promised. She checked the clock on the wall in the hallway. "I should really go now."

"I'll walk you home," the boy offered, all gentleman and everything.

"I've got my car here, Jer."

"I'll—I'll walk you to the car, then." He beamed before prying the book out of her hands. "Come on, let me take this."

"They are cute," Elena observed, smiling, when the door closed behind Bonnie and her brother and their voices started to fade. She turned to Jenna. "Aren't they cute?"

"Yes, they are. I'm glad for them. He needs someone nice in his life because at some point I started fearing that sad relationship stories run in the family."

"That's not true." They headed to the kitchen, and Elena put her arm around Jenna's shoulders and squeezed a little. "We just have our… complicated periods, is all."

Jenna snorted. "Right." She shook her head. "So, you okay with it? With Bonnie dating Jer?"

They both looked at the front door again. On the other side of it, the engine still wasn't running. Instead, Bonnie's soft laughter carried across the lawn.

"I'm happy as long as they are happy." Elena shrugged and sank down onto one of the chairs placed around the dining table. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Why would it bother me?" Jenna opened the fridge and reached for a bottle of water. Thought for a moment and then put it back in before retrieving two mugs from the cabinet. "I know he had hard times with Vicki and then Anna," she trailed off, distracting herself by turning on the kettle and then dropping the tea bags into the mugs – Earl Gray for Elena and chamomile for herself. "He needs to catch a break, and she's a good influence. Unless he starts cheating on his tests with magic. That… that would be a problem." She turned and leaned against the counter. "And besides, my relationship history would make any judgment on my part a bit too hypocrite, no?"

Elena let out a short laugh, sagging against the back of the chair. "Don't be so harsh on yourself." She looked around then, taking in the surrounding details apprehensively. "So, this house is officially vampire-free."

"Almost," Jenna snickered and pointed at herself.

"Yep, almost." The girl smiled. "I kind of keep forgetting."

They both fell silent for a while, letting soft humming of the fridge and the ticking of the clock fill the air, neither too comfortable about the vampire topic. It still felt weird.

And how could it now? There was so little that had changed – apart from the diet maybe – that wrapping her head around the fact was as hard for Jenna as if someone would have announced the arrival of aliens. She could still see her same old self in the mirror, with a slightly paler skin maybe but all in all, she did not feel much different. The overly intensive emotional reaction was still disturbing, but then again not entirely foreign, so she chose and was slowly learning to laugh it off and keep it at bay.

But then there was the whole guilt thing so obvious in Elena's eyes whenever they touched that issue that was keeping them both back from mentioning it, ever.

"How does it feel?" She asked lightly, shaking the brooding off. "The vampire-free house."

"Good." Elena responded after a short pause. "Safe."

"Good," Jenna echoed, nodding. "That's the idea."

She scanned the room around her, feeling like she was actually seeing it for the first time in a very long while. She had never thought about this house _not_ being safe – until she knew for sure that it wasn't. And it scared her. It scared her to think that she stayed blind for long enough to nearly get them all killed, failing to provide the very basics of what her sister wanted from her – the home for her children where they would be protected from the rest of the world. So what if she didn't know who Katherine and Elijah were? It didn't make her feel any better, regardless.

"So," she filled the mugs to the brim and returned to the table, setting one in front of Elena and plopping down to the chair across from the girl before closing her palms around her own mug, marveling in the warmth that started spreading up her arms, "what would you like to do? If you don't have any plans, we can watch a movie or something. I can try to burn down something for dinner. Which, of course, will inevitably lead to ordering pizza. You know the drill."

Elena scoffed. "How about we go straight for pizza?"

"Hey, we've got to be adventurous! Where's the challenge in dialing the number? Now, setting off the fire alarm is the way to go."

The girl shook her head. "Cooking it is, then." She reached out then, picked up her mug and started at the rich brown liquid for a while before lowering it back down. "Jenna, are you okay?" Her eyes searched her aunt's face pensively.

Jenna looked up, her expression quizzical. "Sure."

Which probably came out too unconvincing for Elena to buy it. That's why she didn't. Instead, she regarded Jenna for a few long moments.

"You're wrong about sad relationship stories running in the family," she said at last. "You and Alaric… I know it's messed but—but it's going to be fine."

Jenna paused. Her lips formed into a sad smile. "Because you know, right?" She asked ruefully, dropping her gaze. Messed up wasn't covering her relationship with Ric. Not even close.

Elena sighed, then spoke softly. "I can't see the situation through your eyes. But I know how Alaric feels now." She waited for her aunt to look up and meet her eyes. "It's confusing, and weird, and trust me, he doesn't know how to deal with it in the right way, either. But he is really trying, Jenna." She sighed. "Look, it's none of my business and not my call, and not my decision to make, but whatever Alaric is doing now, he is doing it because he thinks it's best for you."

"And lying to me a way to go," Jenna muttered wryly. Not that Elena could object. "Look, it's not just that, even though all these secrets are just frustrating." She paused as if searching for the right words to shape her chaotic thoughts into, the words that had ran through her head more times than she could possibly count, not quite certain if she was talking to the girl or to herself. "We—we talked about what happened to Isobel." That caught Elena's attention fully making the girl look up. "I know how hard he took what happened between them, how much what she did hurt him." Jenna looked Elena straight in the eye. "I'm just not sure that this," she gestured down herself, "is what he needs."

"Jenna—"

"And also, I am not sure he understands it yet. That he—" she inhaled deeply before letting out a long breath, "that he sees it clearly." _Because seeing it through the prism of loss and never wanting to go through it again is another thing completely_, she added in her mind. "It's not the life he wanted with his wife, so why would it be something he'd want with… someone else?" The question hung awkwardly in the air, none of them able to answer it honestly. "It's fair to give him a chance to walk away without feeling guilty about it," she finished quietly, her shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug.

Slowly, Elena nodded, her forehead crumpled as she processed Jenna's words. She leaned forward on her forearms, her index finger running up and down the mug with her tea.

"All these months, while keeping the truth from you, we were also making decisions for you." She said all of a sudden. "I believe it didn't feel nice." She squirmed inwardly. Now, all this time seemed like the biggest mistake she couldn't help cringing about.

"You bet," Jenna wrinkled her nose.

"Well, now you're doing the exact same thing to Ric."

* * *

><p>On a Thursday night, Mystic Grill was packed when Damon walked inside, swallowed instantly by chatter, laugh and Led Zeppelin booming out of the jukebox. Moving through the usual dinner crowd and maneuvering between the tables, he headed towards the far – and quieter – corner that held the bar area, pointedly ignoring an ocean or conversations around him.<p>

Alaric was sitting on one of the tall stools at the very end of the counter, as far as he could possibly get from the other clientele, seemingly oblivious to the commotion around him with a half full glass placed on the coaster before him.

"The bar is full of your history students, Ric," Damon announced, approaching. He looked around for emphasis. "Do you have any idea what a bad example to them you are right now? Sitting here, drinking alone."

"You lost me at _the bar is full of your history students_," Alaric called back without turning, his voice dull and hollow.

"Why do dark?" The vampire climbed onto the stool next to him. "Cheer up!"

"Leave me alone, Damon," Ric waved him off wearily, not really interested what the vampire was so chipper about.

Damon gave him a speculative once-over. "Trying to drown your sorrows in whiskey?"

"Sadly, they can swim."

Alaric took a sip of his drink, a sour, humorless half smile crossing his face for a fleeting moment. God, he was so not up for a small talk. Or for any other talk, come to think of it. The idea of staying home and drinking bourbon right from the bottle was tempting, but he knew he would start climbing walls with all that silence around him. The bar wasn't much better but at least the noise kept his own thoughts somewhat quieter.

The vampire chuckled. "Sneaky bastards."

"Tell me about it," Alaric breathed out.

He finished his drink in one big gulp without wincing and waved at the barman to get him another one.

Damon gestured _make it two_, and then looked at Ric again. "You look miserable and pathetic," he declared as if voicing a verdict.

"Well, probably because I am miserable and pathetic. So, it's okay."

"Wanna tell me what we're drinking to forget?" Damon pried a few minutes later when their glasses were placed before them and the barman walked away to deliver five pints of Guinness – an order from a crowd of college guys yelled out loud enough for everyone in Mystic Falls to hear.

Alaric didn't respond right away. Instead, he kept on staring at the amber liquid filling a low tumbler, ice cubes floating at the surface, for so long that Damon grew to believe he was not going to say anything at all. Not in this lifetime at least.

In the end, he drew in a breath, making Damon's ears perk in anticipation. "I want you to turn me," Alaric said quietly, his voice barely a whoosh of breath but firm enough to break through a wall of concrete. "I want you to turn me into a vampire."

**To be continued… **

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I apologize for typos. I know they must be there somewhere :P

As always, comments are appreciated if you feel like leaving some :) They make my life brighter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's notes: **Look who crawled from underneath the rock! Sorry it took me this long. Real life gets in the way over and over again. It's been crazy lately, with all the changes going on and all. But just so you know, I'm still here, still writing, and with any luck – still updating. Quite irregularly, but… I have most of the story planned out and drafted so it's just a matter of time before I actually get, well, somewhere. Be patient.

And, I would like to thank everyone for support once again and say how much I appreciate your interest and your kind words. They mean world to me :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Damon blinked, startled, then looked around as if to make sure it wasn't someone else who said it because for a moment or two it just didn't make any sense, as if he could understand separate words but not the arrangement of them.

On any other day Alaric would snicker at his disbelief. Not today, however.

"You want me to do _what_?" The vampire asked, incredulous. Even John "Jackass" Gilbert asking him to turn him into a vampire wouldn't have surprised Damon as much as this same request coming from Ric did. It was like the Earth shifted and was now spinning backwards.

Alaric was a hater. Not the crazy one that would rather spare his own life to avoid being turned – like, maybe, most of the Council members that seemed to inherit this attitude from their ancestors, but a hater nonetheless. He made his point of being hugely displeased, to say the least, with Damon turning Isobel, which was something the vampire knew would always stand between them as unresolved issue, even if it was a pebble instead of a rock now. And he also knew that for Alaric the very idea of mere vampire existence with killing and blood drinking and such was wrong, unnatural. Which, okay, he could understand more or less because he would probably share this opinion had he not been one of them long enough to get it out of his head.

Thus, all things considered, he could not imagine Alaric being in his right mind to ask anything of that kind. Becoming a vampire? What next? Selling his stakes and opening a bakery in Baltimore?

Wrapping his mind around it was next to impossible.

Alaric downed the remains of his drink, put the glass down and stared at it intensely, as if expecting it to hold an answer to any question in the universe.

"I want you to turn me into a vampire," he repeated slowly, tasting the words in his mouth, his world-weary voice muted by the cheers that exploded somewhere in the pool corner.

Damon frowned as he regarded him skeptically.

"What the hell are you drinking?" He grabbed Ric's glass, studied a handful of ice cubes at the bottom. "And why didn't I get the same thing?"

Alaric snatched his glass back and scolded the vampire. "I'm serious."

"Of course you are not! That's why I want to know what you're on." He leaned closer, dropped his voice, "Come on, did you get something from Jeremy's stash?"

Alaric's lips twitched humorlessly as he turned away, regretting finishing his share of whiskey so fast and wondering why it wouldn't just kick in already.

It had been nearly three hours. Three hours of staring at neat rows of bottles before him on the other side of the bar counter. Three hours of ignoring the laughter behind his back. Three hours and four damned glasses of what felt like liquid fire to his throat, and his mind was still crystal clear, if maybe a little blurred at the edges. But it wasn't enough to help him dull the throbbing pain that felt pretty much like being cut in pieces from the inside, and compared to it, his stiff back and aching shoulders were nothing but insignificant discomfort, a mere inconvenience he barely acknowledged.

He looked down at the old, scarred surface of the wooden surface, a silent witness of more dramas and heartaches than he could possibly imagine. As if those scrapes and scratches had lessened the heartache of those who left them.

"Jenna dumped me because I'm not a vampire," he muttered under his breath, cringing on the inside. He didn't know where the idea came form but now it sat firmly in his brain, a bit too overwhelming for his taste. "And if that's what has to be done – whatever. I can't lose her."

Damon all but snickered. "She dumped you because she didn't want to make you her midnight snack," he pointed out. "And because she has trust issues while you're being a secretive bastard. Whatever suits you better." He took a sip of bourbon. "Work on it."

Alaric regarded him darkly out of the corner of his eye. "Screw you."

"Thank you, but… you are not my type."

Ric shook his head. "Why can't everything be good for once?" He asked no one in particular, a rhetorical question that had no answer whatsoever. "I'm just sick of things always going the wrong way."

"Welcome to reality," Damon chipped. "Like they say, life sucks and then you die. For some, it sucks for a very long time." His gaze flickered towards Ric for a brief moment. "And in your case, this magic ring keeps bringing you back because you are not cool enough to say _adios_ to the cruel world for good."

Alaric let out a short, harsh laugh. "Right." He rubbed his eyelids. Attempted to remember the last time he had proper sleep and failed horribly. He was so haunted by his thoughts, his life, that every time he closed his eyes, it was a torture. So he chose not to bother.

Damon grimaced. "You had a fight, Ric. Don't be such a drama queen."

"Says the guy who had been obsessed with one and the same woman for over a hundred years." Alaric echoed. "So healthy. And so _hypocrite_."

"Gah, it's an old story!"

"Yeah, like your new one is any better."

"Shut up." The vampire gulped hand of is serving of whiskey. Not the best kind but he couldn't be picky at Mystic Grill, of all places. "And I am not turning you, by the way. Your doom and gloom is frustrating as is. I am absolutely not signing myself up for it for the next millennium or two. I already have Stefan, and he is more than enough to be stuck with. Did you try counseling? Or fishing?"

Alaric let out a long breath, his fingers tapping absently on the plastic coaster. "I love her."

"Hm. And speaking of, did our little witch find something useful about hybrid, or mysterious signs?"

"How's that _speaking of_?"

"Another hopeless issue," Damon explained eagerly with an out of place excitement.

"No. No, she didn't." There was just no sense in pointing out the flaws in Damon's logic.

Damon huffed and muttered something about utter incompetency, but the birthday roar from the table ten feet away from them swallowed every sound, including Bob Marley's voice coming from the jukebox. Over his shoulder, he regarded the crowd with a searing look.

"Hey, I've got an idea." He announced, turning to Alaric when the cheers reduced to a bearable level.

"No," Ric responded immediately.

"Don't you want to hear me out first?"

"Save your breath, it's going to be a no either way."

"You are such a bore."

There was more, something about someone making an entirely insufferable vampire, but his phone started to buzz before he so much as opened his mouth, and he grabbed it hastily, frowning when he saw that the caller ID said Liz.

Sheriff Forbes seldom made social calls. Seldom as in _never_. And Damon couldn't help having this cold empty feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he knew she was on the other end of the line. It could only mean bad news. Sadly, with her line of work? she never addressed him with good ones. Unless she needed him to humiliate himself by being a bachelor or benefactor for some lame fundraiser. But they probably already covered that kind of fun for the season.

"What?" Alaric asked warily as the obvious change to Damon's expression didn't slip his attention, and chill trickled down his spine as a foreboding of something terrible.

Damon ignored his question as he listened carefully, humming vaguely every now and then. He hung up then, his face a clear _you don't want to know_, which Alaric hated instantly. The rest of his drink went down in an inhuman gulp before he stuffed his phone into the pocket of his jeans and slid down from the stool.

"Come on, Ric. You'll brood later. Time to have some work done now."

* * *

><p>Jenna snapped her eyes open, gasping for air as she woke up with a start from the dream that was instantly wiped out of her memory. Her heart was hammering fast and loud against her ribs, racing like crazy. She let out a long breath as she groped for the remnants of the dream in her head. Yet, it remained blank and empty, like a black hole that swallowed each and every trace of any thought that ever crossed her mind. Trying to understand what it was that alarmed her proved to be fruitless.<p>

There was some uneasy feeling pooling in her chest, gnawing and scratching and making Jenna wish she could just claw it out. If only it was possible. Something wasn't right but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, exactly, and not knowing was making the anxiety worse.

She lay in bed, staring blankly at the shadows swaying across the ceiling, wide awake and edgy on way too many levels, her blood pounding in her ears. Sleep wasn't an option anymore.

Unconsciously, Jenna browsed through sounds – a habit that appeared just recently – to make sure that everything was okay in the house.

Elena's breath was deep and even on the other side of the wall, her heartbeat rhythmic and steady. From across the hall, the drums and bass guitar were slamming into Jenna's mind – Jeremy had fallen asleep with the music on again. But it was barely a matter of any concern. At least as long as he kept the volume reasonable.

Jenna felt herself relax minutely. They were fine, the rest wasn't important. Her dreams – or nightmares in most cases – did not cross into reality, fortunately. She was getting used to dealing with them lately, seeing as how she had a pleasure to 'enjoy' them every single night, basically. Long and tiring and full of blood and death, they were making her wonder whether she was ever going to get rid of them for good, or if they were her personal hell to endure for the rest of her life. Were they a part of her new and improved nature? If yes, she had probably missed that part in her vampire life contract.

She turned her head. It was 3:42. Right about time for the darkness to floor her mind, Jenna mused grimly.

Normally, the problem with the nightmares would be solved easily – she would snuggled into Alaric's shoulder, breathing in his scent and seeping in the warmth of his body, and the demons of the night would back away, powerless and weak against the deep and consuming feeling of contentment. Back then, it was so easy to make the things right whenever they fell out of balance.

She looked longingly at her cell phone lying on the nightstand, nearly reaching out for it but then reconsidering. Of course. As always. It was silent, its screen black, and she had never wanted to call Alaric more in her life.

But not now. They hadn't spoken ever since he dropped her, Jeremy and Elena off at the Gilberts' house after their… well, talk. Granted, she had been clear enough about needing time and space and whatever. And he wasn't an imbecile not to get it the first time around. Thus, she hadn't heard from him – or of him, for that matter – for nearly two weeks. Problem was, two days later it occurred to Jenna she didn't quite expect him to go underground like that. And she didn't know what to do about it, or what to make of it either.

She appreciated his respect for her decision – not to mention the fact that she was still mad at him and rather uncertain about their situation in general – but the truth was that she missed him, and it was what she could do nothing about. She missed him. She missed having him around, and the sound of his voice, and most importantly, she missed the feeling of safety and assuredness Alaric gave her. The way he was always making everything right somehow.

What if it was exactly what he wanted, Jenna wondered. She offered him a way out and he took it without so much as a look back. She just… she didn't expect it, truth be told. She didn't think he would seize the chance and move on just like that, like what had happened between them was nothing.

_Well, what did you expect, Sommers? Did you think he would come crawling back to you? Ha!_

If it was what he wanted, you can't do anything about it, a small voice reminded her. You wanted to do what's right, so don't be twelve about it now.

Jenna let out a soft breath, her fingers curling around the sheets, and looked away from the dead phone to stare at the ceiling above her. Might as well go and choke on her pride, huh? Her heart slowed down a bit, her breath deepened, but even the idea of sleep remained impossible. She listened to an oddly loud ticking of the clock in the hall, counting the beats in her mind. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. By this time her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The shadows lurking in the corners faded and the pieces of furniture stepped out from behind grey veil that was covering everything at night. She could hear the wind whistle in the chimney and the floorboards creaked softly as if the house was a living creature itself. And for some reason these sounds, so familiar, made her feel a tad better as if they helped the distorted world shift back into place.

On a sign, Jenna kicked away her covers and slipped out of bed. Maybe a glass of water would do the trick, she thought heading out the room and then down the stairs, the floor cool beneath her bare feet. Everything was so still and quiet, save for the soft creak of floorboards, that the silence rung in her ears. A cold wave of shiver rolled down Jenna's body.

She stopped in the middle of the staircase when it seemed to her that she caught some movement out of the corner of her eye. As if someone was standing at the top of the stairs. It was eerie, and it made Jenna's skin crawl, forcing her to take a step backwards as she watched the familiar place warily, half expecting someone – _something_ – to jump out at her. Oddly, she wouldn't be merely surprised if it actually happened. But when she turned and looked up – the landing was empty, of course.

Jumpy, huh?

In the kitchen, Jenna poured a glassful of ice cold water but then put it away and got a bottle of chilled white wine out of the fridge instead. Stifling a yawn, she reached for the wine glass… and then there it was again – a feeling like someone was watching her from the dark. A swift blur of movement only her vampire senses could register, too subtle and tentative.

Frowning, Jenna put the glass away and scanned the kitchen and a part of the living room she could see from where she was standing beside the kitchen island, bathing in silver moonlight streaming through the patio doors. Yet, the air remained unmoving and the silence was almost pressing. No one was there.

There were things she despised with passion about being a fangy predator but those super senses were quite handy most of time. Unless she had a headache, maybe, because in the case the super hearing was practically maddening. But for the survival purposes, she was glad to be able to detect a living being within a half a mile radius from her. It never ceased to amaze Jenna how every human body had a certain buzz to it. Not just the heartbeat that was easy to pick up on but some sort of a living energy humming from it. As if each and every of it had a rhyme one could attune to, as unique and one of a kind as a fingerprint. Being something she couldn't quite rationalize, it fascinated and frightened her.

She could hear nothing of that sort if close proximity now. The only muffled vibrations were coming from upstairs aside, and they were familiar to her. Which was good news.

Less coffee, less stress, more sleep. Jenna shook her head, cringing inwardly at her reactions. It was embarrassing, to say the least. The house was safe, and she liked the comfort of that thought. No vampire – specifically, none of the Originals – could come inside, and for now it was the most important thing. Thank God, her overheated imagination posed no danger… to anything but her psych. Well, whatever.

Jenna took a sip of wine, held it in her mouth, then swallowed slowly. With any luck, she'd be able to catch a couple more hours of sleep before it would be time to kick Elena and Jeremy out to school and have a run for her own class.

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

And then whipped her head around with lightning speed when her ears perked at the sound of soft footfalls coming from the corridor. Her heart leaped up and at the same time her fingers let go of the glass she'd been holding of the will of their own. It shattered against the tiled floor, breaking the silence with the intensity of explosion.

"Jenna?" A sleepy voice asked from the dark, sounding as startled as she felt.

"Oh, god, Jer." Pressing her hand to her chest as though it could help to calm down the flutter of her heart, Jenna let out a relieved breath, and then laughed shakily when he stepped inside and reached for the light that she neglected to turn on. "You scared me."

"Sorry." He yawned and ran his hand through the shaggy hair making it stick out at odd angles.

Barefoot, in sweat pants and a t-shit with the name of the band she didn't recognize (oh, geez, what else is new?), he looked so much younger than he actually was. She simply couldn't help noticing that, and once again a pang of guilt shot through her body at the thought that his life should be so much different from what it actually was. He should have had his emo phase, then his bass guitar obsession phase, then 'start my own rock band' phase, then turn into a great guy, go to college…

It just wasn't fair. And it hurt on the inside to know that there was nothing she could do to undo any of this and bring the things back to normal. To how they were meant to be.

"I just wanted to get something to drink," Jeremy muttered, his lips curving into a half smile.

"Join the party," she offered graciously as she looked pointedly at the mess at her feet. "No, not this." She grabbed the bottle of wine still sitting on the counter as he reached for it.

Jeremy grimaced but her resolved remained. She was cutting them both a lot of slack as is. No curfews, no grounding – God, she didn't want to be a _parent_ – and basically no control as long as they were safe. She was not, however, going to encourage underage drinking. Apparently, this was the limit to her coolness. There had to be at least some rules to play by.

Jeremy shrugged without a protest. "What are you doing up here drinking all alone, anyway?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She cleared the glass shards and sticky wine pools and tossed the soaked paper napkins into the trash bin before chuckling grimly, choosing to stick to half truth. "Remind me not to watch 'A nightmare on Elm Street' before bed."

Jeremy snickered. "Good old Freddy, huh?" To which Jenna only shook her head.

The feeling was still there, much to her annoyance and concern. Some anxiety she couldn't shake off. She kept straining her ears as if hoping to catch something – something that shouldn't be there. Her entire body buzzed with urge to act. Except she had no idea what to do, exactly.

"Hey, Jer, where—"

A familiar voice interrupted the train of Jenna's thoughts.

She snapped her head up to see Bonnie who stopped short and cut herself off the moment she realized Jeremy wasn't alone. _Bonnie_ who was wearing nothing but one of Jeremy's oversized t-shirts that was just long enough to go down past her hips. _Bonnie_ who managed to blush visibly when it occurred to her _who_ she had ran into. _Bonnie_ who had a clear desire to evaporate without a trace this very instant written all over her.

Jenna blinked as if to clear her vision.

Nope, nothing changed. And the situation went to a whole new level of awkward by the moment.

"Hey… Bonnie."

She turned to look at Jeremy who was very busy staring away as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. She opened her mouth, her mind searching for words feverishly, closed it again and imagined that she was probably be looking like a fish in a tank. The scene couldn't have been weirder.

Bonnie's gaze was cast down – seeing as how the tiles were so fascinating and all. She seemed to shrink somehow as if pulling her neck in her shoulders could make her less noticeable. Neither of them dared to so much as breathe properly.

Jenna's eyes darted between the two of them.

"When did this happen?" She asked bluntly. "No! Don't tell me!" Added quickly before they even opened their mouths. "I probably don't want to know that," she muttered under her breath. Then her eyes narrowed slightly at Bonnie. "Does your dad know where you are?"

"I told him I'm staying over at Elena's," the girl replied quickly casting a wary look at Jenna from underneath her eyelashes. Which wasn't a lie, exactly. Just slightly modified, not detailed truth. Except Jenna doubted Elena was in on any of it, but it wasn't the point. Wonderful!

"Right," she nodded for lack of a more decent response.

And what was she supposed to say, anyway? Any reprimand on her part would make her a hypocrite. It wasn't like her own boyfriend didn't spend most of time in this house. Back when she had a boyfriend. Granted, she was an adult with the right to put her foot on something like that. Except she was doing a far crazier things when she was Jeremy's age.

Okay, this was messed up.

Was there anything about how to deal with the situations like that in her guardianship papers? Somehow, she doubted it.

Inevitably, all this reminded her of the time when Ric and her run into Elena back when they decided to spice up—Well, it was irrelevant. Still, the memory made the color rise up her cheeks. At least she kind of knew what Elena felt back then. Not that she actually wanted to. And Jeremy as well, from when he walked in on her and Alaric—

Oh boy, she probably broke every rule and traumatized them both for life.

Yeah, setting any rules now would probably do little good. She was a couple years too late for that. So, she chose to do what any mature and responsible adult would do in a situation like this – retreat. Fast.

"Well," Jenna cleared her throat, not quite sure what to do with herself by the moment, her cheeks hot and flushing, instantly recalling how she found Alaric laughing uncontrollably when she returned to the room after that midnight encounter with Elena months ago, his face buried into the pillow to muffle the sound. Of how she thought she would literary die from embarrassment as she wished she could just wipe out the whole incident from their memories. How he kissed her until it wore off and nothing else mattered. And how he then tended to avoid Elena for a little while, unable to look directly at the girl as his ears turned bright red whenever she entered the room or addressed him for something or another. "I should—" She grabbed the wine. Yes, she and Bonnie would dance around each other for a while most likely. "Goodnight, then."

"Night," Jeremy called back. "And Jenna?"

She stopped in her tracks. Turned. "Yeah?"

He shifted, antsy, before finally meeting her gaze. "I'm sorry about that. And… thanks."

Beside him, Bonnie did her best to stay invisible and avoiding any possibility of eye contact whatsoever. Jenna could almost hear the wheels turning in her head she tried to come up with an idea of how to turn back time or something else optimistic.

Slowly, she nodded. The corners of her lips tugged up. "Just don't tell me anything I don't want to know."

"Got it."

Upstairs, Jenna closed the door behind her back and padded across the room, not bothering to flick on the light, her eyes easily adjusting to darkness. No running into the furniture with pinky toes, thank you.

It was Bonnie, then, she decided. The prickling feeling on her skin. A feather light touch of something she couldn't explain. It was Bonnie because she was always making Jenna feel that way, which according to Stefan had something to do with the witch-vampire _compatibility_. Like, the two species were attunes to one another in some way. It wasn't anything bad or unpleasant, just different. Normally, she didn't care. Except she didn't expect the girl to stay overnight, which was what set her off into a full panic mode.

Jenna stopped by the window and peeked out scanning dark and empty street, so still it was almost unnatural. She took a sip of wine, right from the neck of the bottle and then put it down on the windowsill. Unable to shake off uneasiness still running along her skin, she craned her neck to see as much of the block as she could, not quite sure what exactly she was looking for.

"Paranoid much?" Jenna muttered under her breath, heaving a long sigh.

It was getting ridiculous.

She put a hand on the glass, feeling smooth cold surface beneath her palm. It was nice, and it seemed to cool down the burn of her skin, no doubt caused by the dream she couldn't even remember. Who would have thought some crappy nightmare could leave a mark so prominent? It unnerved her that she couldn't just shake it off. Like it was still lurking somewhere too deep for her to reach.

She turned away from the window then, and frowned when her eyes rested on the mobile phone she had left on the bedside table not more than half an hour ago. There was a red light that blinked alarmingly. A voicemail message that must have arrived while she was downstairs.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she crossed the room, her mind racing.

Ric.

Jenna's heart leaped, starting to thud a thousand miles per second. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, and short-lived excitement was quickly replaced by cold, blinding panic that trickled icily down her spine. She fumbled with the buttons, pushing all the wrong ones with trembling fingers, too eager and too scared at the same time to hear the message.

It wasn't Ric voice that greeted her, though. And for a moment she was torn between disappointment and relief – it wasn't him, much to her regret, bur at least there was no bad news, either. For all she knew, that is.

But when she finally realized what she was hearing, Jenna felt herself freezing to the spot. IThere was no voice at all. Instead, she heard a soft music filled with scratching and static, like a radio station with poor reception or an old vinyl record. Softly, it was playing a lullaby.

* * *

><p>"So, what do you think?" Damon asked at last, breaking thick silence that hung around the two of them on the ride from the crime scene back to the boarding house. He threw the car into park, jerking it to the shoulder of the gravel driveway and then killed the engine and leaned heavily against the back of the driver's seat, his fingers tapping restlessly on the steering wheel.<p>

"That we're screwed?" Alaric offered him sourly.

He rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyelids, doing his best to stay awake. Doing his best to stop seeing the maimed bodies he wished he'd never laid his eyes upon. There'd be quite a while till they would stop haunting his dreams, sprawled on the floor, marred with blood, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling with that somewhat wondrous expression on their still faces. As if they didn't understand what happened. How? Why? As if they couldn't quite embrace the fact that it was the end of them. He couldn't blame them. No one was sitting and waiting for the death to down upon them.

The unfairness of it struck Alaric once again, setting deep inside of him like a chunk of lead, squeezing him in a tight grasp that was making it hard to breathe. It was too wrong, too unnatural. It was making him scared that one of these days he would see someone he knew looking at him with glassy eyes, unspoken question frozen in them forever. Most of them didn't even look scared, and it had always been the thing that made Alaric's skin crawl more than anything. Unlike him, they didn't seem to see the wrongness of it all.

There is question, yes, but also there is always some sort of acceptance of the inevitable, and the sight makes him want to pack up and run away until he has at least three thousand miles and this hell of a town every time.

"How about something we don't already know?" Damon added gruffly, which made Alaric let out a bitter snort.

"That we're _royally_ screwed?"

Damon snickered.

"That was pretty obvious as well." He fell silent for a few moments, listening to the soft rumble of the engine cooling under the hood of his Camaro. The night was pitch black, with only a few dots of dim stars in the jet moonless sky and a huge cloud curtaining misshaped moon. "You think it was a vampire?"

"They were drained, Damon. Last time I checked, it was quite a signature." Alaric heaved exasperated sigh. "The burglars normally don't suck out blood of their victims when they come for some cash and jewelry."

Slowly, Damon nodded. Not necessarily because he agreed, but at the very least to acknowledge that he heard it. "They got inside the house," he added thoughtfully.

"Well, the vampires can be quite persuasive like that, can't they?" Which went for – vasmpires can compel, right?

A mother of all headaches started to throb in his skull, making it feel huge and hollow and unbearably heavy. The sight of death made him sober up instantly but the remains of the bourbon still running in his blood weren't going to make it easy for him, and Alaric wondered if they had enough Aspirin in that house to help him make it through the rest of the night and into the morning. Or whiskey. Some whiskey to help him pass out before the world around him exploded.

"It's someone new," Damon murmured under his breath not addressing anyone in particular, more speaking to himself than anything.

"Why would you think so?"

"Because it wasn't me or Stefan, and I can't imagine that cheerleading Barbie doing anything as sinister either." He shrugged. "Unless… Jenna?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Klaus wouldn't bother. I mean why kill someone as insignificant when he has Gilberts to torture? And Elijah… No, it's someone else." His forehead crumpled and his lips pursed together.

Alaric pushed the door open and stepped out into the chilly air, grateful for its bite on his cheeks and the way it seemed to clear the fog in his head. He waited for Damon to do the same before they headed towards the house, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket for warmth. Maybe he should just stay out here and wait for the alcohol to wear off completely? With any luck, he could just freeze to death.

"So what?" He shrugged. "Klaus has a whole army of vampires and god knows who else camping out somewhere here."

"You think it's them?"

"I don't think anything. I'm… I'm sick of thinking about any of this."

He did need that glass of whatever after all. The life in this town was terrifyingly sobering.

Damon regarded him skeptically. "And do we have a choice? Gee, I must have missed that!" They walked inside and the vampire closed the door behind the two of them, double-checking the locks. "Hey, are you going to the Lockwoods tomorrow?"

* * *

><p>"Well, maybe it won't be that bad," Elena said with a great deal of hope.<p>

Jenna was the first one to climb out of the car. She slammed the door and shielded her eyes with her hand taking in the massive expansion of the Lockwoods' mansion with about a dozen of other 'volunteers' roaming around the front side of the house and vast, neatly mowed lawn.

"Are you kidding me? It is extra Lockwood service we're talking about. It is going to be anything but fun per se." She shook her head in astonishment. It looked like half of Mystic Falls was here already, carrying, sorting, decorating, or whatever. how Carol managed to rope them all into it was beyond her.

"Not anything in life is about fun." Elena noted, emerging into the afternoon sun after her aunt.

Jenna snorted before giving her an apprehensive once over. "Who are you and what did you do to Elena Gilbert?" Which was only half joke. "I really should have talked to your mother about what she was putting in your head sooner," she breathed out, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she fought an urge to get behind the wheel and speed away before it was too late.

Elena huffed. "Yeah, well, it was easier to agree than to wiggle out of it."

They opened the back doors and dove inside coming up with the cardboard boxes filled with stuff Carol 'kindly' asked to bring along. Jenna snickered mentally at the wording.

"How did this happen, again?" She asked in a loud whisper as the two of them headed towards the wide veranda that encircled the lower level of the house.

"I…. am not sure," Elena responded reluctantly. "First she was asking how I was doing, and the next thing I remember is loading my mom's stuff into your car." She turned to give Jenna a quizzical look. "Does that make any sense?"

"As a matter of fact, it does."

They stopped at the base of the porch steps and peeked inside through the double front doors that stood ajar, catching a glimpse of Carol Lockwood giving directions to a bunch of people in the hall, all while looking like a confident bandmaster as she swung her arms pointing to something or another.

"We'll try to make it quick," Elena promised with surprising enthusiasm which, Jenna suspected, consistent mainly of a good chunk of wishful thinking.

"Let's just focus on getting out alive," she chuckled. "That should do. And remember, in case of danger, drop down and pretend to be dead."

"Any other words of wisdom, Aunt Jenna?"

"Don't push me."

It wasn't like they had much of a choice anyway.

…Jenna left two junior kids to sort through the leaflets for the information stand, grabbed empty cardboard box to drop it off in the closet spared for stuff to be used to pack everything back after the event was over and walked stealthily across the expansive ball room, intended to stay out of Carol's range of vision for a little while. She picked a glass of lemonade from the tray placed on a carved redwood table by the door leading to the library and downed half of it in one gulp. In the back of her mind, she wondered what were the odds of getting into the liquor cabinet in the study because God knew the lemonade just wasn't enough to get her through the day of pre charity "Let's save the world or die trying" military order under command of Mayor Lockwood.

If only helping with the preparation could help her wiggle out of attending the charity ball, she mused, knowing that on the torture scale from one to ten it would most likely end up somewhere between twelve and fourteen. Sadly, it wasn't an option. She checked her watch. Well, at least they were nearly done for the day.

It wasn't that she minded all of this per se. Being a part of the community life was a big thing for Miranda, and the least Jenna could do was respect it. Problem was she had too much on her mind to actually care about fundraisers and such.

She breathed out slowly through her nose and then inhaled deeply the scent of freshly trimmed grass coming through the open patio doors, eager to catch a break from nearly three hours of never ending buzz and commotion, her head ringing with overwhelming noise that rolled around her, swallowing her and then backing away like tidal waves, one after another.

Craning her neck to peek out of the door, she spotted Elena sitting in a crouch beside a huge dusted box, Stefan by her side, both of them rummaging through its contents with enviable concentration. Jenna shook her head, her lips forming into a soft half smile. All of this… it seemed so ordinary, so painfully normal that she couldn't help thinking that maybe she was asleep and would wake up sooner or later, alone, in the dark, in the world that went crazy the night she spent sitting in a circle of fire. It wasn't hard to remember that nothing would ever be normal, exactly. It wasn't hard, but it wasn't easy either. And the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach was driving her nuts sometimes.

"There you are." Jeremy skirted around two guys carrying a table across the room and walked up to Jenna in a few brisk steps.

"Hey." She regarded him with surprise, eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you doing here?"

Jeremy looked around and wrinkled his nose. "Wondering why am I even alive."

"I thought they let you off the hook."

"They did. But then Matt needed some help, and I was stupid enough to pick up the phone when he called, and…" He trailed off and shrugged. "Anyway, Mrs. Lockwood was looking for you. She wants to discuss the snacks or drinks, or other antidepressants."

Jenna all but groaned with exasperation. "Okay." She shoved the box to him. "Would you store this for me? Feel free to stay in the closet until it's time go to home."

"Got it." Jeremy grinned. "Hey, Jenna," he hesitated, waiting for her to look at him. "Everything okay?"

"Why? Do I have a murder face again?"

"Pretty much."

She grimaced. "A giant leech just sucked out my brain."

He glanced around. "Mrs. Franklin?"

"What? She's got to you, too?"

"No, I was careful to stay out of her way." He scanned the room again. "When do you think we can get out of here?"

"Ask you sister, she was the one who signed up us all. But whenever it is, it's not soon enough." She did smile encouragingly at him though. "Look, I know it's hard for you guys. Not to mention boring." They shared a look of understanding which on her part also carried a comforting message _I feel your pain_, and she made a mental note to have a decent pizza night sometime soon. "But it was really important to your mom—"

"Yeah, I know," he nodded. "She'd be… she'd like to know we waste out weekends on something like that, I guess."

Jenna's smile softened. "Just think of it as a necessary evil. And for God's sake, if you see Mrs. Franklin – run."

He trudged away, and Jenna turned around to go and face the inevitable – Carol Lockwood with the draft menu, too elaborate for a small town fundraiser. Her head pounded, small hammers going on a steady beat in her temples and echoing in the back of her skull like it was going to explode any moment. The commotion around her was hardly comfortable. Too much noise intensified to the level that wasn't easy to handle, what with all the cannonade of heartbeats the fought to keep somewhere in the back of her head. Even though she had to admit that it wasn't as bad as she feared, the vampire aspect assumed, the lack of good sleep was taking its toll on her.

She finished the rest of her lemonade before heading to the double patio doors choosing to circle the house on the outside and catch up with Carol in the kitchen in the far end of the building. It was more the need to avoid the crowd for a few minutes than anything else so that she could finally drop the smile that started to hurt her face for a little while.

Behind her, the voices carried across the room – commands not to drop this or that, directions to the bathroom, or kitchen, or library, or the storeroom where the banners and stuff were stashed, laughter. The chatter did not die out even for one moment although it was getting more or less bearable now that she got used to it a little.

Jenna pinched the bridge of her nose as she walked, trying to push away the throbbing that pooled behind her eyes. It wouldn't be a bad idea to check on the cabinet in the bathroom and find some Aspirin or something. She bumped into someone with her shoulder and turned to mutter hurried apologies. And froze instantly when her eyes landed on who she happened to stumble upon, exactly.

"Hello, Jenna." Klaus's bright blue eyes, cold as ice as always, roamed around her horrified face, clearly pleased by her reaction, his lips curved into a wry half smile. "What a pleasant surprise."

Jenna swallowed hard, noting that her knees went weak and soft as if they were going to give in any moment and she would collapse rather ungracefully down to the perfectly polished marble floor that seemed to sway a little beneath her feet.

She kept her face blank, however, if a little annoyed even. Or at least that was the idea. She wasn't entirely sure of what the outcome looked like but she knew that he didn't miss her escalated pulse and the waves of panic that started radiating from her, however irrational it was. Klaus had been bad and all things scary but he wasn't dumb enough to do anything to her in a room packed with half of the town's population. Still, her skin tingled as though his very presence ran a current through her body.

Her eyes remained firm on his face, although she couldn't help taking a small step back before she attempted to walk around him on a dark, "I'm out of here."

Klaus moved to block her way, swift and sleek as a cat. Jenna didn't so much as blink before he was standing right before her, merely a foot away. Whether it was a vampire thing that he was bold enough to use in the room full of witnesses, or just a Klaus thing she didn't know. Yet, it was all it took her not to stumble backwards. It would give him a bit too much satisfaction and she fought to remained glued to her spot but her heartbeat peaked by the second against her will. She needed to get out, to get away from him as far as she possibly could.

"Rude," Klaus drawled with mock reproach.

"What to do you want?" She asked in her best pissed off voice, hoping that playing along would put an end to this idiocy faster.

The vampire tipped his head to his shoulder and gave her an apprehensive once over. "Does Mayor know about your delicate… situation?" One of his eyebrows arched. He sounded genuinely curious.

Jenna's gaze remained hostile. "Does she know about yours?" He didn't respond. "It doesn't seem to bother you much, does it?"

She attempted to walk away again, so not up for these games right now.

Klaus caught her by the arm making her stop and all but hold her breath. "I hoped we could talk," he offered in a low, smooth voice that seemed to envelop around her like silk, his breath tickling her ear. He watched her apprehensively, and the intensity of his stare made Jenna's blood run cold.

She kept her eyes on his for a few moments, then shifted them down to his hand on her elbow and then back up to his face. "You were wrong."

It wasn't the answer he was waiting for, apparently, because his smile, however fake, disappeared instantly and his nostrils flared with irritation. "How about you reconsider?"

"I think she was clear enough." A voice filled with a rather fake and unnaturally cheery nonchalance broke through the thick layer of charged tension surrounding them. The bubble burst and the sounds and smells flooded in as though some dam that cut them from the rest of the world broke down.

Jenna turned as her heart gave yet another somersault to see Alaric step forward basically positioning himself between her and Klaus. Seeming at ease on the outside, he was practically made of carefully measured challenge, his jaw tight and his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.

Needless to say, Klaus's hand was gone. His lips twitched with poorly masked amusement.

"I'm sorry, we were talking here, see."

"You were. Not anymore." It wasn't a threat, exactly. No one was stupid enough to get that far. Yes, an offer to back off was as clear as it could get.

"Mr. Saltzman, I presume?" Which was more of a statement than a question. Klaus measured him with his glance, obviously not taking Alaric as anything but a mere inconvenience. "I don't think we were introduced."

"I'm afraid so. Tragic, isn't it?"

Klaus chuckled softly under his breath and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his pants as the three of them stood separated from the rest of the room by the tall palm thingies in enormous flower pots.

Involuntarily, Jenna reached out, her fingers closing around the sleeve of Alaric's jacket as if holding him back from whatever he might do. Like, sign up his death sentence without so much as a blink, which she knew he could do, hero complex assumed. Eyes glued to Klaus – who seemed to enjoy the conversation a bit too much for her comfort – she tugged slightly, her heart pounding like a drum in her ears.

"Ric…"

"What is it with this town and people being so mindlessly reckless?" Klaus wondered meanwhile, a rhetoric question to no one in particular.

Alaric shrugged. "It comes with the welcome basket."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Klaus asked.

Alaric ignored him. "Stay away from her," he said in a low firm voice, whatever easiness he carried before gone completely.

They glared daggers at each other – a staring contest that seemed to go on forever.

"Well then." The vampire stepped back, regaining his pleasantness. "Have a nice day." His eyes flickered to Jenna briefly before he walked away and disappeared behind double door leading into the depth of the house.

They watched him go in silence and then Jenna let out the breath she didn't even notice she was holding, noticing for the first time she was practically shaking with tension, her muscles so tight that it hurt. Her fingers let go of Ric's jacket and dropped down limply.

"Oh boy…"

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she called back automatically, then turned, and blinked, and finally focused on Alaric as if seeing him for the first time.

There was yet another jolt inside of her, of an entirely different kind. Relief mixed with longing, a familiar comfort of his presence she realized she hadn't felt for too long. Her fingers flexed on the empty glass, holding onto it like it was a lifeline.

"I—" she started, her eyes lingering on his features. It was only then that Jenna took notice of the box he held tucked into his side with one arm and it downed on her that he was probably dragged into the whole organizational drill as well. She stared at him, not quite sure what to say or do next. Her whole body was still buzzing with adrenaline, making her feel a bit dizzy. "I need some air."

She headed out through the tall doors into the patio and then stopped there, seeping in the rays of the late afternoon sun through her skin as she took one shallow breath after another. Her lungs felt small and crumpled.

Alaric left the box on the floor by the flower pot and followed her suit, his eyes scanning the back yard in alarm. More out of habit, he had to admit, although he did half expect Klaus to jump out at them from behind the nearest bush. At least he wouldn't put it past him. Not really.

"What did he want?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know." Jenna turned to him and ran her fingers through her hair before throwing a quick glance inside. Thankfully, Klaus was nowhere in sight, and it made her relax a little. "Carol must have called him, too, and he found it impolite to decline," she grumbled.

He caught her gaze. Held it. "I don't want him anywhere near you, Jenna."

"Not exactly my idea of a nice company, either." She admitted rather grimly. "I—" she cleared her throat, raking her mind that remained weirdly empty. "I didn't know you'd come."

"Well," Alaric looked past her shoulder for a moment. "It's not the kind of fun that you miss." The corners of his lips tugged up, forming a small smile.

Roped, too, she figured. Why wasn't it surprising?

Her gaze locked with his once again. "Don't do that."

Alaric's brows creased with confusion. "Don't do what?"

"I don't want you to be all knight in shining armor and run to my rescue every time, Ric. I'm not a damsel in distress." Which came out much harsher than she meant but thinking of what Alaric was getting himself into by crossing Klaus's path was making her lose her mind.

His face fell, revealing a mask of pain and disbelief. "So, I was supposed to stay away and enjoy the show?" He asked bitterly.

"It is—_he_ is my problem, not yours."

"Like hell! God…" He looked away and rubbed his eyes before turning back to Jenna. "Do you really think that because we are…" _not together_, finished in his mind, cutting himself off midsentence. Even in his head, the words sounded wrong and foul. "It doesn't mean I don't care anymore. It doesn't mean I'm going to just walk away."

"I don't want you to get hurt, Ric. Not you, not anyone else. It's not some lame ass punk with an attitude we're talking about. I don't want anyone to get at odds with Klaus because of me…" she trailed off and shook her head.

Alaric snickered. "Well, it's not like he can kill me," he joked darkly, twisting his ring around his finger.

"So not the point."

The silence fell between them, thick and suffocating. She didn't know what to say or do, and the soles of her feet nearly burned with the urge to get away as soon as possible but the burst of laughter and Carol's unmistakable descant calling for her son made Jenna reluctant to go back just yet. He was there. Klaus was somewhere there, clearly enjoying his game and watching everyone else around him with calculated amusement. The pawns he wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice to get whatever he was after. And thinking that with her around, every single person in the house was in danger made Jenna sick to her stomach.

Surreptitiously, she looked at Alaric out of the corner of her eye. God, it was good to have him there, she thought. Despite everything, just knowing that he was around was making things better somehow. Even if it wasn't for real, not exactly.

It was hard to stay focused when her mind and her feelings were such a mess. Between that weird voice mail in the middle of the night, permanent sleep deprivation and running into both Ric _and_ Klaus, her head was half a step away from falling off of her shoulders. The very process of forming coherent thoughts on any of the subjects was a bit too much of a challenge. She didn't expect Alaric to show up, and she wasn't ready to deal with him on top of everything else. She wasn't prepared, and it kind of shifted her attention from the freak out episode to all unresolved issues between the two of them, which were now crowding her already busy mind making it impossible to concentrate on anything at all.

A whiff or air tossed her hair into her face and she reached to tuck it behind her ear. Her eyes dropped down to the pair of her worn tennis shoes and she shitted from foot to foot, uncertain of what to do with herself. He wore the same aftershave he always had for as long as she could remember. The very same one her pillows still smelled of, and her stomach twisted when the flood of memories rushed back in, and her fingers curled into her palm so that she wouldn't… reach out for him or do something else ridiculous.

"So, Elena told me you revoked all vampire invitations," he prodded after a few moments, not finding anything else to say but needing to fill the silence.

"Oh, that. Well, we had to do it," Jenna replied, eager to grasp safe topic. "Both me and Elena died during the sacrifice. And Jer… Elena told me what Damon did a few months ago. With… with killing him." She was so not going to let it go, period. In fact, she was very tempted to snap Damon's neck for so much as touching Jeremy. "Technically, it made the house vampire-welcome, with all of us _dead_…" she trailed off. "It had to be done if we wanted to live here."

"That… that was a good idea." He agreed, then cleared his throat. Again. "Look, Jenna—"

"Yes?" There was something about his voice that made her heart skip a bit and she had to make an effort not to hold her breath.

She missed him, but until this moment she didn't realize how much. Him and all the small things about their relationship. Even Elena and Jeremy pretty much avoided mentioning him when Jenna was around, like she could break down or fall apart or something. And now it hit her with the full force of the category five tornado, knocking her off her feet, and she just didn't know how she was supposed to deal with it.

It's been nearly two weeks. Two weeks she had spent struggling because she kept reaching for the phone to call him every now and them, totally out of habit, before jerking her hand away the last moment. And now she didn't know what to think about all of it. What to say. If, of course, there still was anything left to say, that is.

There really was no way around the whole 'Hey, we slept together, and then I turned into a vampire, and then we broke up and I told you not to call me and you didn't, except that I thought that you would anyway, and I don't know what to think about it now, and I also feel stupid because your friend called you to come rescue me since I didn't have the guts to do it myself' thing. Speak of pride. She might as well shove it up her ass for all it's worth.

And boy, it was so not the time for any of this.

Alaric frowned. "Are you—" he started, pulling her out of the tangle of her messy thoughts. "Jenna, are you are you sure everything is okay?"

"Huh?" She blinked and found him searching her face intently. "Yeah, I just—I never expected him to be so bold about everything. Klaus, I mean. I thought he would be hiding somewhere to plot our misery instead of dancing right into the Mayor's home to help haul boxes and banners and stuff." She grimaced. "Although he did strike me as a public event type. And it's… it's unsettling."

He studied her face, taking note of dark circles under her eyes, and his stomach twisted at the sight of some dread lurking behind the façade, but he didn't know how to ask about it, and wasn't sure she was going to answer either. It was the first time in a very long while that he had no idea how to tell her that she wasn't alone without overstepping the line that Jenna drew between the two of them.

"That came as quite a surprise to us all," Alaric murmured. "Would you," he cleared his throat that suddenly went too dry to produce any proper sounds, "would you like me to take you home?"

Jenna shook her head. "No, it's fine. I don't think we're done yet, and Elena and Jeremy are somewhere here, too. You know how it is with Carol." She offered him a rueful half smile that didn't touch her eyes.

"I'm starting to get the taste." He called back, feeling the weight lifting off of him – of them – at last.

She looked up at him, her skin practically luminous and the sun tangling in her hair made it look like a halo around her head. He had no idea it could be so painful on the physical level to stand so close to her that he could smell her perfume missed with the scent of Jenna's lemon shampoo and yet not be able to reach out for her.

"You don't have to look out for me." She told him after a long pause. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. Doesn't mean you have to." They stood in silence for a while. "I hate it when we're like that," Alaric spoke again. She looked up, surprised. When did he get so close? "I know I ruined everything. It was one mistake too many." His gaze flickered to the broken pattern of crooked lines on the marble floor at his feet for a moment. More than anything, he wanted to step forward and put his arms around her. Which was hardly an option. So, his tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants instead, lest they act of the will of their own. "If only I knew what to do to make it right," he breathed out before meeting her eyes again. "Messing up the only thing that made sense in my life wasn't what I had in mind, trust me."

Jenna swallowed, unable to look away. To think properly, for that matter. "I trust you, Ric." She said in a whisper. His eyes were sad and lined with worry and something that she couldn't quite describe but what made her feel warm all over. "I just don't trust you not to hurt me again."

Which was one hell of a lame excuse, and only a part of the truth. But even more than she was hurt, Jenna was scared. Scared of Klaus doing something to any of them to get back at her, to push the button that he knew would make her do anything. Jeremy and Elena she couldn't and had no right to cut out her life. With Alaric, however, it was another thing entirely. And more than losing him she was scared of taking away the things he was better suited for. The normality. Something she knew she would never be able to offer, no matter how much she's want to. Leave alone getting him killed in the process.

He broke the eye contact and looked away. "Yeah, I—I get it. You're right."

A short snap broke the silence followed by the sound of glass shattering against the marble floor.

Jenna stepped back involuntarily and stared dumbly at the shards of glass in her hand and a few thick drops of blood falling from her palm to the pale stone at her feet as if it was happening in a slow motion replay. Without noticing she, apparently, crashed the glass in her hand.

Alaric's hand was cupping hers instantly as he fidgeted for handkerchief.

"It's okay," she murmured shakily. "It'll…" Together, they watched the edges of the cut draw beck together until there was nothing left but a smudge of dried blood on a smooth, soft skin. "…heal," Jenna finished.

"I keep forgetting," he breathed out, more to himself than to her.

_Me, too_, she thought bitterly.

"Look, I know—I know you want to make it work," Jenna said in a slightly quivering voice which she hoped wasn't too obvious to his ears. She paused as her eyes roamed around his features. "But maybe… maybe it's not something that _I_ want."

He tensed beside her, his face a mask of disbelief. And then he nodded, slowly, as thought his head was doing it of its own volition. "Okay." Another nod. "You're right, I—" He looked down at her hand that still lay in his palm before his eyes want up to her face once more time. "We should clean this up before—before someone stepped on the glass."

"Ric…"

"I'll be right back. Just—just wait here for a moment, okay?"

And then he was gone, disappearing behind two guys that carried a cork board to be hung in the parlor, maneuvering awkwardly as they tried not to drop it down.

"That wasn't how I imagined it, exactly," Jenna muttered under her breath, feeling empty and hollow, like a balloon that was popped with a needle.

She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she could rewind this whole stupid conversation. Wishing she wouldn't say what she said because… well, because she didn't mean it, to begin with. Because she hated seeing what she saw in his eyes and knowing she was the cause of it. Screw common sense.

Sighing, she stared at the sharp pieces of glass in her open palm and shook her head. It was the right thing to do, for both of them, at least for now. She knew it was right.

But if it was right, then why did it feel so wrong?

"Well, I believe I finally have your full and undivided attention," a smug voice broke through, startling Jenna. She started to turn, but then everything went black.

**To be continued…**

* * *

><p>…some time in this millennium.<p>

So, what do you think?

Also, for everyone who made it this far – a vidlet which, I guess, can be regarded as a teaser for chap 13 or 14 *because I'm crazy about this song* www[.]youtube[.]com[/]watch?v=AXpYg9-P9EY


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note:** still here, still working. I am so grateful for your patience, guys :) Updates are rare because real life cuts in the way of really important things, like writing, see. But I have several few chapters planned out and they are coming sooner or later, somehow. Scout's honor!

Feel free to dig in!

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><p><strong>Chapter 12 <strong>

In the bathroom, Alaric smacked his fist against the wall, only vaguely registering in the back of his mind soft crunching sound that followed. Whether he broke the tile of his own bones, he didn't know, and didn't really care for that matter.

Why? What were they doing wrong? What _weren't_ they doing to have it all fixed? What was it that they couldn't get over that stood between the two of them? He didn't know. He didn't see it. And trying to figure it out felt more like banging his head against the wall with no avail than anything else.

She didn't mean it, did she? She said she needed time, and that was okay. God knew, he had needed a good chunk of it when it came to solving his own issues with his missing wife and the rest of mess that came with the package as well. Months of feeling like he was hanging upside down, not knowing what to do, where to turn, who to believe. Been there, done that so to say. He could understand what Jenna was going through now like no one else. But she didn't… she couldn't mean what she said. She couldn't want to put an end to them. It couldn't be happening.

Alaric slumped heavily against the wall ignoring the dull pain in his right hand, his feverishly hot forehead resting on the cool tiles. Eyes closed, he forced himself to keep breathing, one shallow inhale after another. His lungs felt small and parched. The whole world seemed to crumple around him, looking wrong and distorted, and he wondered if anything was going to start making sense ever again.

Stupid. He felt so stupid. All this time he was longing to call her, to go to her with an obsession of an OCD case, running possible scenarios one after another in his head. Except he didn't know what to say, how to face her, where to start. The words just weren't coming, stuck in his throat like a thick suffocating lump. It was a miracle he hadn't actually camped out on her porch but… but she asked him for some space, and he didn't quite see how following her like a sad puppy was going to give her that.

Jenna…

Her face stood before his eyes every bloody moment of his miserable life.

Coming here was a mistake. One of many, he thought bitterly. He knew she'd be here, or at least knew she might be, and the probability of seeing her after all this time pulled him like a magnet while the reasoning and common sense remained dormant, trapped behind the wall of need for her presence, her smile. For everything _Jenna_. Everything he'd been deprived of for what felt like forever.

But it didn't work that way of course, and he didn't change anything by showing up under the pretence of caring for yet another Carol Lockwood's endeavor. Which, okay, was rather admirable, and he had to give the Mayor that, but to him it looked too vain and useless to even give any of it a second thought. Not in Mystic Falls. Not in town where the darkness reigned. He just couldn't bring himself to care about anything but making it through the day without having his throat torn out, literary.

Alaric inhaled deeply and then let out a long, slow breath in desperate hope to clear his mind and ease the pain that held his insides in a tight grip.

And then there was Klaus who never missed the chance to rub the fact that he basically owned the town and had its privileged citizens in his pocket in their faces. God knew it took Alaric all of his will not to wipe that smug grin off of the vampire's face. With a good, solid punch. The very thought of him circling around Jenna like some goddamned vulture was making his blood boil and bubble, making waves of hot hatred roll through his body.

His stomach wrenched. If staying away from her was bad as is, then knowing that she wasn't completely safe was simple killing him. Not here, not anywhere.

The handle jiggled as someone attempted to enter the bathroom, making Alaric turn around abruptly, his senses alert. He straightened up and fought to slow down the crazy race of his heart, willing himself to start thinking properly. Someone needed to use the bathroom. It hardly was a gun yielding attack.

"Just a minute," he called out, lowering his hands and letting his arms fall loosely down his sides. The tile he'd hit a few minutes ago was cracked, a cobweb pattern running from the center of it. His hand throbbed. He chanced a quick look at himself in the mirror – pale, sunken, haunted face, and the eyes framed by dark circles. An expression of a trapped animal.

Alaric shook his head and unlocked the door to find a girl that looked vaguely familiar waiting patiently on the other side. Someone from school he assumed as she greeted him with a fleeting half smile before sneaking inside. Funny how the faces all around him blurred into a plain mass when he couldn't care less, making it hard to separate one from another.

He grabbed some napkins and an empty trash bag, and headed outside again.

She wasn't there, however. Alaric stopped short, frowning and looked around. Broken glass crunched beneath his feet and he glanced down automatically before scanning the back yard.

"Jenna?"

He searched the crowd busy with putting up some sort of a tent some hundred feet away from him looking for a familiar mane of strawberry blonde hair. His heart sank for a moment before starting to thud dully against his ribs as he strained his ears to catch the sound of her voice in the mass of noises coming from all around him, all of them oddly out of place. Someone could have called her, someone could have—

Alaric fumbled hastily for his cell phone, hitting all the wrong buttons before he managed to press the right one for speed dial and then all but tapped his foot impatiently as he counted the rings on the other end of the line. _Come on, pick the damn phone!_ And then his ears perked when he caught the sound of a familiar ringtone that went in sync with the ringing in the receiver he held at his ear.

Following the high-pitched chirping, he walked up briskly to the arrangement of the flower pots of all sized in the corner of the patio. Stashed between the roots of some plant he couldn't name even if life depended on it was the slick black phone that shrieked in protest as his number blinked on the caller ID… across the photo of him that Jenna took one morning a couple of months back. His chin was shaded with stubble and his hair messy as he smiled sleepily at her. The image was like a punch in the gut that knocked the air out of his lungs.

What the hell happened here?

Maybe she just dropped the phone—

Yeah, with such enviable and precise accuracy! Right.

Alaric's eyes narrowed when his gaze landed on a familiar face and he felt a blinding fire build up inside of him as his nostrils flared in anger. They were not going to get away with it.

It was like everything shifted and blacked out around him, leaving only one single purpose to his whole existence. One moment he was standing right outside the patio doors, Jenna's phone clutched in his hand, and the next he was across the room holding Elijah by the lapels of his expensive suit and pinning him to the wall. In the back of his mind Alaric knew that it only took seconds for everything to happen but the time seemed to slow down and make it feel like they were all moving in slow motion, as if the air was thick and clinging like cotton to them, holding them back, making every detail stand out with almost impossible sharpness.

"Where is she?" He hissed while completely disregarding surprised and worried gasps all around them, his grip so tight that his knuckles had gone white.

"Alaric." It was Carol Lockwood who called his name and who he ignored promptly not bothering to even acknowledge her presence at this point. "What—what's going on?" She demanded nervously.

He could feel intense and curious stares. It took a moment for commotion and chatter to quiet down and for the room to fill with hushed whispers.

Elijah's face, impassive and not merely surprised, was right before his, his expression as calm and composed as it could possibly be. God, it wasn't even natural. Who reacts like that when basically attacked in a crowded pleace, presumably for no reason?

Seriously, of all the annoying traits of the Originals, it was their permanent ability not to give a damn that infuriated him the most.

Meanwhile, Elijah – without so much as a blink, for heaven's sake! – shook him off effortlessly as if Alaric was an annoying fly that deserved nothing but to be swatted off. "Mind your manners, Mr. Saltzman," he told Ric evenly, not at all taken aback, or angry, or… anything.

"Alaric—" Sheriff's warning voice cut through, grazing the edge of his attention.

"It's okay." It was Damon who popped up out of nowhere and trying to shield the scene of conflict with his frame with little success. "Carol. Liz. I'll take it from here."

Alaric disregarded them all entirely. "Where is she?" He demanded with a low growl. "What did you do to Jenna?"

"Ric," Damon's hand landed on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off, annoyed, without tearing his gaze away from Elijah, wishing he could set the vampire on fire with the power of his mind.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Elijah said eyeing him evenly as he straightened up his jacket, his face blank and maybe mildly curious, which nearly set Alaric's quickly evaporating patience ablaze.

He didn't believe him. Originals couldn't be trusted even on the best of days. Not to mention the crisis times, and it sure as hell wasn't a coincidence that Jenna disappeared into thin air when Elijah and his psycho brother were around. And he also didn't believe for one goddamned second that Elijah wasn't involved in Klaus's plans. All that crap talk about dignity and honor that he fed them all and that Jenna swallowed so easily—well, just look where it got her. Where it got all of them with their blind belief, with not watching their backs and letting their guards down when it came to the Originals. It was a mistake they would have to pay for.

"Cut the crap!" He spat, stepping closer to Elijah and giving him a measured look full of resentment and hatred. Yeah, well, it was like trying to kill an elephant with the toothpick but Alaric couldn't help putting as much menace into his glare as it was humanly possible.

"Damon, what's going on here?"

Liz Forbes sounded unnerved, and it amused Alaric – on the level where he wasn't shaking and scared and all things crazy right now – that she honestly believed that Damon was the normal one in the situation. That he could handle it and make everything right.

"It's okay, Liz. Just a misunderstanding. Give me a moment." He inched closer to Alaric. "What the hell are you doing?" Looked around. "Too much attention, don't you think?"

Alaric cast him a quick glance. "Well, I don't care! He and his brother—"

"And also, you're blowing a perfect cover story here."

"Do I look like I give a—"

"Damon," Carol sounded truly panicked now, and there was some dark satisfaction inside of Ric from knowing that maybe this whole farce of a story would finally get out and spare them all these endless lies. Maybe Carol and Liz and the rest of them needed to see what was going on right under their noses while they were dancing around the Originals, all puppy-eyed, fascinated with their manners and accents and their exquisite love for manslaughter. "Elijah, what is this all about?"

Yeah, go on, tell them what it is about, Alaric wanted to say, if only to put an end to the absurd they had all been living in for too long now, to see Elijah's face if he managed to break his game. He was so sick and tired of everyone going on eggshells around those psycho killing machines like they were the best thing that ever happened to this town.

"I'm sure this is nothing," Elijah assured her without even looking her way.

Alaric's fists balled. He was going to rip the truth out of that pompous, condescending—

As if sensing the probability of this turn of events, Damon turned to the Mayor. "Carol, do you mind if we speak in the study?"

* * *

><p>Slowly, the sounds fought their way through the thick veil of fog and exploded in her head like a bunch of firecrackers on the 4th of July. Jenna moaned quietly, and that barest of noises echoed painfully in every cell of her body. The world started zooming in at last, screaming for her to keep hold of it while she was balancing on the edge between finding her grip and falling down yet again, letting it slip through her fingers.<p>

She forced herself to try and open her eyes even though her eyelids felt like they were made of lead, just as solid and heavy, and completely out of her control and strained to distinguish the sounds surrounding her and flooding her head with deafening cacophony, to make out one from another, but it soon turned out that most of the noise was her own frantic heartbeat, labored breath and the rush of blood in her ears, and together they were making it impossible to think. Period. It felt like her very brain hurt, which was frightening.

Where was she? How did she get here? What the hell was going on? And why on earth was she feeling like she'd been hit by the truck multiple times and then thrown off the cliff for good measure? That was so not cool!

Was she dead?

Jenna nearly laughed out at the stupidity of the thought. Could you even feel so bad if you were dead?

It was all a blur, confusing and rather torturous, if only because not knowing what was happening was the least comfortable thing imaginable. Vaguely, she recalled drifting in and out of consciousness, things unfocused before her eyes – nothing but formless spots without a sign of identity or recognition. The voices that never seemed to quiet down and the words she failed to understand as her mind was too tired, too slow to even try and process the information they carried. It was all there, close but right out of her reach, and a part of her wanted to scream from frustration, but then again it seemed to be too much of an effort to bother. Not to mention that Jenna wasn't even entirely sure if she was even capable of so much as opening her mouth. The idea itself made her squirm on the inside. So far, breathing was as much of an activity as should could manage, one shallow intake of heavy, thick air after another.

Could she go back now? To a fluffy place where everything was good and warm and fuzzy and all sorts of right? Somewhere far away from herself. All she truly wanted was to stay still in the dark, just so that all the noise could go away and her skull would stop bursting from the inside, stop feeling so heavy and big out of proportion. So she could fall asleep for a thousand of years. She wanted to be carried away from all of this, to drift into nothingness. Nothing else mattered.

It was bad. So, so bad, that much Jenna was sure of. It all felt wrong and scary. Even her own blood ran like boiling lava through her body as though a million of tiny needles were piercing her from the inside, scraping her veins. Like acid. Like something abnormal though should be there. Every breath, every slightest shift of her chest was agonizing.

What was it? God, what the hell was happening to her?

"_Come on, Jen, you'll be late!" Miranda's voice carried through the house, right from the kitchen and all the way upstairs where Jenna was adding last touches to her pre-date look. She paused before the mirror taking in the reflection that looked oddly unfamiliar. Like a stranger trapped behind the glass. Like someone she couldn't quite recognize all of a sudden. _

"_Jen!" _

Miranda? What the….

The image shifted, then blurred and disappeared as Jenna struggled to get hold of the remains of her sanity.

"_Come on, Sommers. I bet you're going to lose this time." Logan Fell is standing across from her on the other side of the pool table, a cue in his hand, offering Jenna a wide grin, two prominent dimples on his cheeks, his face and posture carefree and confident, and maybe somewhere challenging but in a good way. In the exact way she finds most appealing. Always challenging, Jenna recalls. Always keeping her on her toes. _

_And she likes it. She likes having her knees go weak and her heart flutter whenever their eyes meet. The corners of her lips tug up of the will of their own even though she tries her best to keep her face unimpressed. _

"_You wish," she snorts as she circles around the table to have a better angle for a perfect strike. They both know she is better than him but this game of pretence is one of the many to make the sparks flying, so she goes with it, feeling powerful and content. His eyes on her back as she watches her every move, and Jenna floats on the inside._

Wait, what?

Wrong. This was all so wrong, so twisted.

She held still, hoping this would stop the throbbing in her head, the pulsating pain in her temples. If she didn't know any better, she'd thought her head was wrapped in a white hot barb wire.

_It is late and the school corridors are dark and empty. The sound her footsteps, thin heels on concrete floor, scatters around and echoes in the dark corners. The only other thing breaking the silence is her own soft breath, subtle and quiet, as she turns one corner after another knowing the layout of the interior of the building like the back of her hand. _

_His class is the only room in that part of the school that had a thin stripe of light escaping from underneath the door while the rest of the corridor is crowded with shadows. The rest of the staff and students are long gone after finishing their work for the day, and the realization that they very well might be the only people around makes her skin prickle._

_She turns the knob slowly and pulls open the door that gives in without a sound. Alaric's head snaps up instantly though as he catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, his body all alert, but after a moment the recognition kicks in and a huge smile spreads across his face matching her own. Two stacks of paper – one marked in red and the other only to be gone through – are forgotten the moment his arms slip underneath her unbuttoned coat and around her waist and his lips find hers. He smells of chalk, cheap coffee, aftershave and something purely Ric that sends her head spinning. _

"_Thanks for stopping by," he whispers against her mouth, both of them breathless, and a soft, glowing warmth settles in Jenna's stomach_.

Ric…

_Persistent shrill of her phone breaks dead silence of the night, and Jenna awakes with a start, not quite sure for a few moments where she is and what is going on. She blinks sleepily and reaches almost blindly to grab the stupid thing and turn it off before her eardrums exploded or something, groggy and still a bit confused. She squints her eyes when her fingers find the switch and a bedside lamp comes to life, and stifles a yawn. _

_For a moment her eyes graze past the blinking numbers on the screen of an old alarm clock that was passed down to her by the previous occupant of the dorm room, and she all but groans when she sees that it says 3.15 am. The very time when phone calls of any kind are bad news per se. _

_Jenna props herself up on her elbow and finally grabs the phone if only to finally make it shut up. For a moment she contemplates ignoring it completely. Turning it off and putting it on mute until morning. It is probably Kate, she thinks with some sort of familiar resolve, her troublemaker of a friend who has no sense of time whatsoever. Who probably doesn't remember that they have a test next morning, and Jenna can't suppress an exasperated sigh. _

"_It better be something good this time," she croaks into the receiver without so much as hello, her voice hoarse from sleep. "And he better be hot."_

"_Jenna Sommers?" The man – not Kate at all – on the other end of the line asks, making her freeze and snap her eyes open. The man whose voice is so officially cold that she feels the chill trickle down her spine, the remnants of sleep gone without a trace. _

"_Yes," she all but whispers, torn between the desire to find out what is going on this very moment and regret about picking up her phone at all as she pushes herself up in a sitting position while trying to ignore the hammer of her heart that is making her sick and dizzy. _

_The man clears his throat, and in her mind Jenna wants to strangle him for taking so long. "My name is detective Ryan, Mystic Falls police department," he says and pauses as if sensing her need to process the information bit by bit, time of the day assumed. "There was a car accident…"_

The image swayed, coming in and out of focus, and then there was nothing at all. Nothing but strays of fog and a somewhat numb emptiness in her mind as if the memories from a year ago were too much for her brain to handle.

_Her cheeks are wet with tears she can't control, her lungs too small for a proper intake of air, and a thick lump stuck in her throat, choking her mercilessly. She could never have imagined that the heartbreak could hurt so much – as if her heart had actually been ripped out of her chest leaving a gaping hole nothing and no one could ever fill, and then stomped over until there was nothing left but dust. She could never have thought that betrayal had a certain flavor – bitter and foul in her mouth, with a steely aftertaste of blood and tears. And this pain is never going away, her very soul aching. _

"_So you're the woman who's dating my husband__." _

_Husband. HUSBAND…._

_Jenna squeezes her eyes tight and buries her face in her knees, her fists clenched and her nails digging into the gentle flesh of her palms leaving small crescent shaped marks. _

"_Isobel is dead," his face is sincere and earnest before her mind's eye, and she wants to believed him like never before in her life_. "_Just know that I_ _love you__." And the world stops spinning. "At least I can_ _tell you that much_."

_Lies. Only lies._

She wished she could go numb, stop feeling all of it. Stop feeling, period. Voices, shapes, all mixed into a dark and ugly form all around her.

Why was it happening to her? Why couldn't she just curl into a ball and cease to exist?

"Ah, finally," someone drawled right into Jenna's ear, and she cringed at the sound – at how loud it was, at how it made her head feel like it was going to pop like a bubble. Not without an effort, Jenna forced her eyes open a slit, just enough to observe dark room lit by the flickering flames of tick white candles. The air smelled of mold and basement and wax and blood. The kind of blood that nauseated her, which meant it was probably her own.

A soft groan escaped her lips. Her entire body hurt so much it seemed like every single cell of her flesh was on fire. She was lying on her side and the cold of the stone floor was seeping though her clothes. Sadly, it did little to sooth the pain and make her existence a tad more comfortable. Her heart was pounding so fast she felt dizzy and the whole room swayed around her, and for a moment or two she wondered in the back of her mind what were the odds for the walls to start spinning around her like a carousel. Was it even possible to fall from the floor? Because it sure felt like she was going to any minute now.

It was hard to stay focused. So, so hard to keep her mind from slipping away into the warm, fuzzy place where her brain could just turn into a soft cloudy substance in her head. Where nothing bad could happen.

Yet, she found it in her to narrow the chaotic world down to a single face only a few inches away from hers, deep blue eyes boring into her as if intended to see right into her very soul. Lips curled into a half-smirk half-scowl, he nodded with apprehension when he noticed he finally caught her attention.

Klaus.

Jenna's heart sunk.

"You should stop doing it, Jenna," he shook his head with a great deal of reproach she couldn't place at once. "You should stop passing out when we're having so much fun here."

Fun. Yeah, fun.

It was coming slowly to her now. The fun part, as he called it. With sharp darts. And wooden bullets. And vervain soaked ropes that held her wrists together behind her back making her feel like her flesh was going to burn through right to her bones and then peel off in ugly straps. If it didn't already, she couldn't tell. And then there was that wicked collection of knives of all types and sizes Klaus seemed to be so proud of. And questions. A lot of questions she couldn't answer.

It had been lasting for so long that Jenna completely lost any track of time by now. Yet, they were nowhere close to figuring out what the hell was so damn special about her because – yeah – that was exactly the reason for all of this. Unless it was his idea of socializing, which she knew she wouldn't out it past him.

She kind of hoped she'd just block it out for good, Jenna mused. Personally, she didn't want to know what brought her back from the dead after he drove the wooden stake through her heart and took away her life. It did not flash in her mind like a revelation, much as she'd love it to, if only to finally be able to get Klaus and his sick obsession out of her hair.

It was against all logic, Klaus told her. Unnatural, if you please, he added, and she found some twisted irony in his words. As if being a vampire was natural as is.

Not that she had much of a choice or any say in the matte of cooperation. Doped with vervain shots – hey, at least they found out that she wasn't immune to it or anything – and with half of her blood seeped out through the numerous cuts soaking dirty floor of the basement, she was too drained emotionally and physically to fight. Or care, for that matter. She could only listen to him speak to her in soft hypnotizing voice, and wait.

Absently, Jenna wondered a time or two if there was any way for him to kill her that wouldn't involve fire, sun exposure or a stake, but her very unfocused mind didn't linger on any of this. Could a vampire die of blood loss? Or she'd just turn into some sort of a parched mummy? A living corpse. These were not the things she would normally like to contemplate but she could do nothing to stop them from swirling in her head.

Meanwhile, Klaus squatted down beside her and stared pensively at her face. "Ah, don't slip away, darling. Stay with me."

"Screw you," Jenna mouthed soundlessly, her lips dry and raw, and her throat tight with fear and resentment she didn't quite know how to pour on him.

He smiled, genuinely appreciative of her snarkiness. If anything, Klaus hated weakness and submission as if defeat was some sort of nasty virus. He might be seeing her as nothing but a pawn in the game he knew he would win sooner or later, but there was some respect to the way he looked at her for the way she never dropped on her knees before him.

She wondered if he even realized that she would never tell him anything even if she knew what he was seeking, even if she had the information. Because if she did, it would be a too powerful leverage, and she wasn't naïve to think that he'd simply walk away into the sunset once the secrets were revealed. No, he'd probably wipe the whole town off of the face of the Earth first, which wouldn't feel like a trip to Disneyland, she presumed. She knew better than that. Granted, she didn't have that leverage. But she chose to keep that fact to herself.

"Oh well," he went on, oblivious of the turn her thoughts had taken as he reached out for something that was out of her line of vision to retrieve… a long hunting knife. His eyes ran contemplatively over the long blade taking in all possibilities before he fixed his gaze on her face once again. "Silver it is, then. We hadn't tried that yet, had we?"

Jenna sucked in a sharp breath and struggled to keep the eye contact – the only way for her to stand up to him when she couldn't really, well, stand – as she waited for a white hot outburst of pain to slice through her. It was a miracle he hadn't shredded her to macaroni yet. Yes, they hadn't tried silver yet but Jenna doubted it could be much worse than a hundred of other things they'd already checked, so to say, making her wish once again that she would just die already so that this nightmare could come to an end.

A moment had passed. Then another one. But nothing happened. What was he waiting for?

Straining to keep her attention from slipping away – what with there being more vervain in her system than blood – she watched his face, noticing the frown crease his brows. His ears seemed to perk at the sound of something Jenna couldn't catch and he slowly put the knife away as his eye darted upwards, towards the ceiling above them. Like he actually tried to see something through cement and iron and wood.

Footsteps.

Swiftly, he pulled up to his feet and then disappeared in the shadows without so much as a parting glance, muttering a distracted, "Wait for me here, sweetheart, would you?"

His footfalls faded away, and Jenna let out a breath she'd been holding, letting herself relax a little, her heart pounding against her ribs. She closed her eyes and prayed for him to trip on the stairs and break his neck. Prayed for whatever he had heard upstairs to keep him away forever. There was some movement above her head, and what she was sure were muffled voices but she couldn't care enough to try and make out what they were saying, exactly. For now, she simply needed to have a break before he was back. And he would be back, that much she was sure of.

There was some strange noise coming from above now, as if something big and heavy, like a bookshelf or a kitchen cabinet, toppled over and fell to the floor making the entire house shake. Jenna looked up when dust and peeled paint rained down on her from the ceiling. Hurried shouts followed, accompanied by something – someone – smashing against the walls somewhere in the upper levels of the house. Before her mind's eye, she could see a body fly across the room and falling limply to the floor in a formless heap.

Hopelessly, Jenna tugged at her bindings, knowing for sure that there was no way for her to tear them and free her hands when she was this weak, drugged and delusional. For all she knew, it could all be nothing but hallucinogenic dream or something. Besides, if – and it was a huge if – she could by any chance manage to free herself, she doubted she'd be allowed to so much as step through the door on her way out, seeing as how there were no windows in the basement that she could use as a back up escape route, which she guessed was one of the reasons Klaus decided to use this nice facility for his games in the first place. Jenna had to admit that whatever he was – and murderous psychopath was a definite winner on her list – he wasn't stupid. Which was unfortunate.

"Aw, come on," she breathed out, putting the remains of her pitiful efforts into… well, trying to rip her hands off, apparently.

A squeal of the hinges and the creak of the floorboards beneath someone's weight on the stairs cut through the commotion coming from the main area of the house and made her snap her head up in alert – which instantly resulted in a new wave on nauseating dizziness that nearly knocked her out for all she knew. Damn it! Yeah, well, even if she managed to free herself, she'd probably collapsed gracelessly after making two bloody steps in the direction of her freedom. So much for survival, no?

Still, someone was there with her, slowly making their way down.

Breath hitched in her throat, and Jenna pressed herself into the wall with enough force to break her own shoulder blades. Without knowing what was going on upstairs, it was bad news. Anyone was bad news at this point of time. In her mind, she pictured Klaus approaching her slowly, menace on his face, his lips pursed tight in concentration. She could almost see hell he was promising her with his eyes. Why did he have to come back so fast?

She swallowed uneasily but her mouth was dry, and her ribcage was not big enough for how enormous her heart had become by the second, thudding faster and louder with every passing moment.

Oh god, no, please, not again.

Her eyelids felt heavy, her eyes sandy as if she hadn't slept for weeks, and it took all of her to keep them open, to try and stay concentrated on what was happening around her. Tired… she was so, so tired… couldn't she just go to sleep now?

The person, whoever it was, stopped at the base of the staircase and looked around. In the dark, hidden in the corner where she wasn't on display for him to spot her immediately, Jenna could see only the black outline, and with her consciousness going out of focus every now and then she couldn't tell if she knew him. She went completely still, trying to hold her breath as best she could so as not to make her whereabouts noticeable. _Go away. Just go away now. Leave me alone_.

Good news was that it wasn't Klaus, obviously. Bad news, however, was that she had no idea whether her unexpected visitor was a friend or a foe. Friend she could deal with, perhaps. Having another enemy on her back… well, it wasn't on her wish list at the moment.

The footsteps mover her way, dark figure growing bigger as the man approached, and Jenna's blood ran cold in her veins. With the explosion of adrenaline, she felt queasy.

"Jenna?"

The voice…

She blinked. Or maybe passed out because suddenly there were thick-soled boots right before her eyes, clearly belonging to someone who was now squatting right next to her, which happened a moment before she felt a cool touch to her cheek, and she completely missed the moment in between.

But how could it—

"Oh God… Jenna, look at me. Hey."

"Ric?" She whispered, disbelieving. It couldn't be… Could it?

His face zoomed into focus, relieved and worried as hell, his frame hovering over her. And boy, did she ever feel better! Was it even real? It didn't feel like it, but—

"You should stop hanging out with the wrong crowd," he chuckled, which came out unnatural and nervous and not at all humorous, and the corners of Jenna's lips tugged up against her will.

There was a glint of silver in candle light, muttered curses, and then something snapped before she had time to actually freak out – because seriously, she was getting allergic to knives of any sorts – and her hands were free. The burning diminished instantly although didn't disappear completely, and she had to suppress the urge to rub her wrists, most out of fear that they would just fall off or something.

"You only say that because my crowd is better than yours," she mastered back, which was lame, but she couldn't care less at the moment.

Jenna didn't even know her ankles had been bound as well until another piece of rope fell to the floor. She nearly snickered about how ridiculous it was.

"Let's get out of here," Alaric said quietly.

"Sounds like a plan."

Gently, he slipped an arm around her back and pulled Jenna up. "Can you walk?"

"Yes," she murmured, quite certain that she could even run if only to finally escape this horrible place and the thick scent of essences hanging in the air that were making her head hurt so much, making her feel like she was wearing a tight metal band around her skull.

Yet, the moment the word escaped her lips, Jenna's knees buckled under the weight of her body, and she sure would have collapsed right down at his feet – haha, see the irony of it – if Alaric hadn't been there to catch her before it happened and hold her firmly in the upright position, sort of. The world blurred at the edges and zoomed out, going out of focus.

"I take it as a no."

His breath brushed against her temple, making Jenna shiver a little. And the next thing she knew was that he scooped her up in his arms without an effort. She whimpered quietly when the disturbed cuts had gone aflame and bit her bottom lip to hold back from crying out.

His body felt hot against hers, and solid as a rock. If all of this was going to turn out being some sort of a vervain induced illusion in the end, she was going to be seriously pissed, Jenna thought distractedly. Not the medieval torture experience but because of the way he was making her feel when he was holding her like that, even if it came with a bunch of scars and a possibly fatal blood loss. Who cared about stupid things like that when she was so perfectly safe and secure?

Jenna let herself melt against him, her eyes fluttering close and her fingers clutching weakly at his jacket as if she feared he could slip out of her grasp and right into thin air any moment. And for a little while, inhaling his familiar scent, she almost believed that these past few hours with Klaus were nothing but a very bad dream, and now it was time to wake up, and everything was right in the world all over again.

If only she wasn't feeling so bad, so hot and cold at the same time, buzzing and numb. She could not possibly be a step away from falling apart if she was asleep. There was just no way for her imagination to come up with something as insane. Everything hurt so, so bad…

She felt the stir of the air on her face as they moved, heard Alaric's somewhat labored breath as he climbed the steep stairs, the floorboards creaking beneath him.

Jenna's heartbeat escalated.

What was he doing? Where was he going? Klaus…Klaus was somewhere in the house. They couldn't—they couldn't be going there.

Voices… so many voices all around her… In her head. In the house. Everywhere.

Her fingers tightened around Alaric's jacket but he either didn't notice or ignored it. She stiffened, panicking, her mind too chaotic for her comfort. And then there was Ric, so good, and warm, and familiar, and her mind kept grasping at the comfort of his present, slipping away from the reality Jenna didn't want to deal with. The reality where an Original could be waiting for them on the other side of the door.

Alaric pushed the door out of the basement with his shoulder, careful not to disturb Jenna who lay limply in his arms, her hand holding on to his jacket for dear life – the desperate gesture that made his insides coil.

The hinges gave in with a squeal, and the much cooler air they'd stepped in smelled of old books and worn leather of antique furniture. Still dust but less moldy than downstairs even though he still had an impression that it was stale, like no one lived in the house for too long.

He tried not to think much about what Klaus might have been doing to her, tried to stay focused solely on getting out of this vampire lair which was a priority at the moment, life-wise. It was a matter of survival, and he knew it, except it was hard to chase away the mental images, to stop freaking out like crazy. He had never seen her like that, such a wreck of a person, so weak and lifeless in his arms. And his blood boiled with rage as he imagined ripping the vampire's heart out with his bare hands. For everything that he did to them, for so much as laying a finger on Jenna. Well, it would probably be the last thing he'd do in his life, Alaric mused darkly, but he desperately wished he could do exactly that.

It wasn't hard to convince Elijah to tell them the location of his brother's whereabouts, which at the moment made Alaric more than a little suspicious. What if it was a set up? And instead of helping Jenna they'd be getting them all killed. Yet, they didn't have much of a choice but to take the risk.

Jenna stirred restlessly in his arms.

"Shhh," he whispered against her temple moving quietly and fluidly across the study and towards the tall balcony door that would take him to the back yard and then directly to the car hidden behind the overgrown bushes surrounding the property, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He strained his ears but most of the noise seemed to be a few rooms away, a safe distance he hoped would buy them some time.

She was barely conscious and covered in blood all over when he found her, and the image was impossible to get rid of. The cuts on her arms – at least those that he could see – weren't healing the way the vampire's wounds should, and he knew it was far from normal. She didn't so much as open her eyes ever since, and he wondered if a little vaguely if she even knew what was going on. Did she know he was there at all?

It was chilly outside when he snaked out through the patio doors and the abandoned orchard no one had been taking care of for years was lit by the pale moonlight, making Alaric flinch and regret the sky wasn't overcast. Practical aspect aside, he would prefer to have a good cover instead of a clear view. The grass and twigs crunched beneath his feet. It was a rare moment he wished he had the vampire ability to move soundlessly and stay unnoticed. Right now, everything that was human about him felt clumsy and awkward, making him see himself as a little boy dressed in oversized clothes and unable to move properly.

He heaved a sigh of relief when they dove into the deeper darkness, the roof of branches over the heads making it hard even for moonlight to seep through.

"Here we are," Alaric said as he stopped, only now realizing that his breath quickened and his muscles were sore from tension. "Just hang on there, okay?"

The keys. The car keys were in the pocket of his jeans. Cursing under his breath, Alaric carefully lowered Jenna down until her feet touch the ground, his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.

There was grass underneath the soles of her boots and the cool breeze nipped at her cheeks, at her hands. So cold… her blood soaked clothes were clinging to her body, making Jenna her uncontrollably with every gust of wind, her teeth chattering unevenly. She buried her face into his chest and let her eyes fall close. His heart beating underneath her palm settled into a lulling patter, and she was not inclined to fight the soothing effect it had on her. Sleep. She wanted to sleep so bad.

Damon was somewhere in the house still, and Alaric hoped he didn't get into too much trouble. They needed to get out of this mess alive, he thought. People around him, his friends, people he cared about – they should stop dying, period.

He was feeling sick with fear, his stomach queasy with worry and his whole body buzzing adrenaline. It was like he was desperate to get into a fight to burn it all down but at the same time it was like he wasn't in control of himself, like he was watching the whole situation from aside. Had they been attacked now, his money would be on the attacker, Alaric thought not without dismay. The stake hidden in the sleeve of his jacket would do nothing while he still carried Jenna around. Naturally, he didn't have any crossbow or any other more or less efficient weapon on him, and the stake-firing guns were tucked neatly in the trunk of his car that was currently parked near the Salvatore house since they somehow ended up taking Damon's car to get here.

Damn it!

Everything remained quite around them, though, and the muffled sounds of commotion that floated across the back yard that he left behind the wall of trees seemed distant enough for him to assume that no one was moving their way.

Which didn't mean they were safe or anything but still.

"Hold on a sec," he whispered softly.

"Finally. I thought you got lost. Even worse – I thought you'd need a rescue party."

"Jesus." Alaric let out a sharp breath when Damon stepped from behind his car, his heart thudding. "Did you have to do it?"

"What?"

Ric glared at him but didn't comment, only let out a sigh. "Never mind." He tossed Damon the car keys and threw a quick look over his shoulder struggling to see the movement in the shadows. The sounds of several people yelling at each other were still scattering around the neighborhood, although with Damon not being anywhere near the fight it didn't make much sense. "What happened there?"

"You asked me to keep Klaus busy," Damon shrugged in a not-a-big-deal way. "And he doesn't need all these cars anyway." On that, the vampire slid swiftly into the driver's seat.

"What did you do?"

"Let's say, a little explosion now and then can be a helluva good distraction. He shouldn't have kept anything flammable in that garage of his anyway, no? Are you going to stand there all night?"

"You're crazy," Alaric muttered.

Once he was in the backseat with Jenna curled in his lap, Damon hit the gas and sent the gravel flying from under the tires as he sped down the road – or what they had for a road here – and away from the mansion at top speed. Alaric looked out the back window but it only took a few seconds for the house to disappear in the dark completely, swallowed by the woods around them.

He let out a long exhale – a mixture of relief and exhaustion – and sagged against the back of the seat, his eyelids weighing a ton each. Absently, he reached to stroke Jenna's hair, his lips brushing against the top of her head, and he tried his best to ignore the smell of blood on her.

"Her wounds wouldn't close," he muttered absently, more to himself than to Damon.

"What?" The vampire caught it however and looked at the two of them over his shoulder, his gaze scanning Jenna's form before he turned away again.

"Why doesn't she heal?" Alaric locked his eyes with Damon's in the rearview mirror. "She's a vampire. Isn't it, like, the main perk?"

_Don't panic. Just don't panic_.

The space of the car seemed to close in around him, making it almost impossible to breathe, and all the things he kept at bay and tried to push away for the time being came rushing in now that the immediate danger was no longer an issue.

Damon took his time to contemplate the questions. He broke the eye contact and stared at the road before them. Unlit road, Alaric noted. He didn't turn on the headlights to avoid being spotted. Or do kill them all horribly, maybe. Either was quite possible.

"She's too weak to heal," he said at last, his voice quiet and serious for a change, which made Alaric's guts twist. "She's lost a lot of blood by the looks of it, and the bastard probably doped her on god knows what. It would—it probably slowed down the recovery process."

"So, what are you saying? Is it a permanent thing? Is she going to be okay?"

"She'll be fine." For a moment, Damon's lips curved into a lopsided grin. "Nothing a good ol' O-negative can't fix."

_Yeah, right_. Roll of the eyes would be a must if only he hadn't been feeling too tired to bother. Instead, Alaric turned away and looked out the side window to see nothing but pitch black darkness. This was the beauty of taking windy back roads.

"Ric," Jenna's barely audible whisper broke through to him.

"It's okay. Everything is okay," he murmured against her temple as he ran a soothing hand up and down her back. She was shivering, and the exposed skin of her hands was ice cold and unnaturally white.

He hated it. He hated being so damn helpless. Hated not being able to do a single thing when she was clearly in pain. All he could do was hold her tight and rock her like a child hoping it wasn't anything they were powerless against.

"It hurts," she whispered in a barely audible voice.

"I know."

Damon's eyes found his again. "Where to?" He asked, and Alaric noted that he looked visibly relieved to have at least twelve miles between them and the big bad Original and his gang. "Jenna's?"

"No," Ric shook his head. He raked his brains for options. "Your place. No need for Jeremy and Elena to be dragged into this. We should—" he pinched the bridge of his nose. "We should call them though. Tell them we got her out."

Damon nodded curtly and swerved to the side road without a word, finally slowing down a bit. No one was following them so far but it could be a temporary thing and didn't mean they were out of trouble or anything else ridiculous. No one in this godforsaken town was safe. Klaus was not an idiot, and Damon doubted it'd take him long to realize what had happened. He'd know where to look for Jenna, and he'd sure as hell know what buttons to push to have her come to him willingly and without a second's hesitation if he truly ran out of patience.

Goddamn it!

He wanted to smack the steering wheel with his hand in anger and frustration but it would probably freak out Alaric who already looked like he was going to lose it any moment. Truth be told, he had never seen Ric being like that, and it felt more than a little unnerving. It seriously bothered him that in case of real danger Alaric could get all sorts of suicidal, hero complex and all, and they were in deep shit as is to have even more problems to deal with.

Everything was getting out of hand lately. It irked him that the Originals thought that they could come to Mystic Falls and run the town like it belonged to them only. It more than irked him that they thought they could harm the people he cared about.

Damon let out a long breath. In the back seat, his friend was staring blankly before himself. It was tempting to crack a joke and lighten up the mood. Instead, he fished his phone from the pocket and dialed a familiar number.

* * *

><p>When Damon hung up and her phone went dead, Elena put it on the table beside her and dropped her head onto her folded arms taking one deliberately slow breath after another, not quite sure if she was more relieved to hear the news or scared of what was going to follow. God knew it wasn't the end of story.<p>

Why was it happening to them?

And what would Klaus do next? What _could_ he do? Kill them all? Eliminate every trace of their existence? Enslave the whole town and run his own personal empire in the middle of Virginia?

She couldn't take it anymore. She simply couldn't. She was so endlessly tired of waiting for something bad to happen any moment of her life that any outcome was more welcome than this, than agonizing uncertainty her days were stitched of. Why couldn't she have a normal life? Like everyone else, Elena thought bitterly. Why couldn't her only concern be grades and getting into college? Why couldn't she worry about getting a perfect prom dress instead of fighting for survival? And more importantly, why did the people she loved have to pay the price for it?

"Hey, El—" Elena jerked her head up at the sound of Jeremy' voice. He walked into the kitchen and then stopped and regarded her suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." She shook her head and offered him a weak smile. The one he didn't buy for a moment. "Everything is fine, Jer. Jenna—" she swallowed. "Jenna is okay. Alaric and Damon got her. She's alright."

He relaxed minutely. "And… Klaus?"

"I don't know." Elena admitted reluctantly. "But Stefan will come over in case… you know. So that we're not alone—"

"If she shows up to kill us all. Got it." He nodded, then grabbed a bottle of water from the counter and sat down beside her, his eyes searching her face. "You can talk to me. You know that, right?"

Harsh, humorless bark of a laugh escaped Elena's chest.

"I know," she muttered, scrubbing her hands down her face. Suddenly, she felt so completely drained that she could probably collapse right there and then and sleep for a week. Why couldn't she? Why couldn't she just curl into a ball of misery under the blankets ad forget about everything just for a little while? Forget. She wanted to forget it all. "I know," she repeated desperately, looking up at her brother again. "I just hate it. I hate knowing that you're stuck in all of this as well. I hate knowing that I failed to keep you out of it."

"Elena—"

"I'm sorry, Jer. I am so, so sorry." She pursed her lips together feeling unbidden tears stinging her eyes.

"Don't," Jeremy shook his head, slumping against the tall back of the chair as he twisted the unopened bottle in his fingers without thinking. "A bit too late for it anyway. Besides, it's a family legacy or something." Which was meant to be a joke, she presumed. Instead, it sounded oddly ominous. He paused. "Is she really okay?"

Elena sucked in a breath. "She's alive, is that's what you're asking. And that is a big thing these days." Her throat tightened. "And this… what happened to Jenna… this was also my fault."

"Klaus is the only one to blame," he said sternly, his jaw set tight.

"Yes, but…" She cut off. "I feel so helpless sometimes, you know? Like now when we can do nothing but wait, and it's just…it just feels wrong somehow."

"Tell me about it," Jeremy breathed out.

A soft rap on the door made them both fall silent.

"That must be Stefan." Elena pulled herself up from her chair.

Jeremy followed her into the hall. "Elena." She stopped and turned. He gave her a somewhat measure look. "You would tell me if something was wrong with Jenna, right?"

Elena wrapped her arms around her shoulders as if it was the only way for her not to fall apart. She studied his face, turning the questions in her head, and then nodded slowly.

"Sure. Of course I would."

* * *

><p>Alaric stood so close that his breath falling on her face made Jenna shiver and go stiff all over. She stifled impulsive urge to move away as her own breath caught in he throat. The touch of his hands as he carefully cleared the cut on her forehead was soft and gentle, and it felt like a cool breeze to her skin that seemed to burn from within.<p>

"I'm—I'm fine," Jenna muttered, her teeth chattering, and turned.

His eyes went down from the gash right beneath her hairline that he was tending and roamed around her feathers for a few moments before he locked his gaze with hers, and it instantly struck Jenna how completely world weary he looked. Even compared to her wrecked self, he was like a shell of a man she remembered, which was unsettling. There was some hollowness to him she almost felt with her very skin, some emptiness she didn't quite know what to make of.

"We need to clean it up," Alaric said in a low voice.

Damon said it would take a while for the vervain to leave her system and for her regenerative functions to come back fully. Meanwhile… it all looked rather nasty. And probably hurt just as bad. There sure was no limit to Klaus's imagination when it came to interrogation techniques.

"I can do it," Jenna attempted to protest weakly, which had more to do with plain stubbornness than proper estimation of her strength.

He shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. I—just trust me on that, okay?"

She held his gaze for another few seconds before averting her gaze and letting him go on with whatever manipulations he'd been involved in on a soft sigh of acceptance. It was hard to stand the ground when the said ground was so shaky underneath her feet.

Whatever Alaric was using as an antiseptic felt cool to her cut, soft and soothing while the touch of his hands was gentle and comforting, and it took Jenna a lot to stay concentrated on here and now instead of sinking into the familiar warmth and scent of him, the feel of his body so close to hers, the energy radiating from it that was almost as tangible as the touch.

Alaric brushed the hair out of the cut, and the brush of his finger against her forehead sent a shiver down her body, making Jenna tense all over.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"No, I'm fine," she looked up catching the reflection of the flames dancing in the fireplace in his eyes. "I'm fine."

"I need to—" He paused and cleared his throat. "There is a cut on your shoulder that bleeds badly. I better have a look at it."

"Okay."

What were they even talking about?

"I… um, I can't do it while you're still— you have to take off your shirt."

_Take off my…? Oh_.

Yeah, it would, like, really help if he stood ten feet away instead. Jenna's mouth had gone dry all of a sudden, and whether it was the blood loss, excessive amount of vervain still coursing through her system or the proximity of Ric – or all of these things combined – but she felt like she was falling, falling down.

"It's okay," she blurted. "I can do it myself." _Unless I pass out in about three seconds_. Which wasn't that bad of an option at the moment.

"Seriously?" He gave her a small, sad smile as if reading her hesitation for what it was, and the way her fingers curled around the buttons certainly didn't go past him either. Like she feared he could force her do something against her will. "I ate whipped cream off of your stomach. There is hardly anything new I can see."

Not to mention the danger of the blood infection, but he didn't say that. Mainly because the mental image of the whipped cream thing took all of his thoughts.

Jenna opened her mind to protest as the color flushed on her cheeks, then closed it and turned around to undo the buttons with her slightly shaking fingers that didn't quite seem to belong to her right now, because honestly, he had a point. About already seeing everything there was. Which wasn't helping at all. But it didn't mean she couldn't admit it and try to be reasonable. As in – she was hardly in any condition to do any of this one her own. The rest of the situation she'd deal with later, after a lifetime of sleep and hopefully a memory loss.

She let Alaric ease the shirt over her shoulders, squirming when the blood soaked cloth peeled off the cut. She should have known it wasn't as good as she thought, Jenna winced inwardly. He swiped the hair from her neck, the warmth of his fingers igniting something inside of her, sending a prickling feeling down her spine, making her forget about pain and discomfort.

They both fell silent. She could sense that he was practically holding his breath. Willingly or unwillingly she couldn't tell though. Jenna chanced a quick look at him over her shoulder, taking note of an expression of deep concentration on his face, his lips pursed tight.

Alaric looked up, catching her eyes, and paused.

"It isn't that bad," he assured her. "Probably looks worse than it actually is. It'll—it'll heal fast."

"I know," Jenna breathed out, feeling oddly exposed by the moment, which had little to do with the fact that she was half naked, truth be told. It was something bigger, deeper. As if he could see right through her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"He had no right to do that."

She blinked.

Klaus. Right.

The corners of her mouth tugged up ever so lightly. "Yeah. My best shirt. I should've known better than wearing it to Carol's."

"Jenna…"

And then she wasn't laughing anymore because his face was mere inches from hers, illuminated by the dim light of a reading lamp by the couch and the flicker of fire, and her thoughts were all fuzzy and tangled, and the world was blurring at the edges like an old photo, aged with time. She could feel his breath falling on her skin and cooling off the burning that lingered just beneath the surface.

His fingers slid down her bare shoulder, tracing the length of her arm before closing around Jenna's hand that she kept pressed protectively to her chest as his eyes wandered around her face.

She went completely still, her gaze shifting down from his clouded eyes to his slightly parted lips, and then further down to his throat and a vein that throbbed with pulse. She swallowed uneasily, drawn to the scent of blood, warm and sweet and delicious, so close to her. His blood that was calling for her, pulling her like a force she couldn't resist. She could almost hear it running in his veins, pumped by his heart, feeling so utterly weak against its strength.

"Jenna—" Alaric's voice was quite and hoarse, barely audible even to her sensitive ears, sounding somewhere on the periphery of her attention, very close but far away.

In her mouth, Jenna ran her tongue along her significantly prominent fangs feeling a wave of heat rise inside of her, coloring everything around her crimson. It was like everything went mute, as though someone pressed the button and the whole world stopped spinning. And the next moment, acting on pure instinct, she lunged forward at lightning speed before she even knew what she was doing. Her teeth sank into his skin, into the gentle flesh that tore without resistance. The sweetness of his blood filled her mouth.

**To be continued…**

* * *

><p>I know it wasn't the best of me but I really tried. Any comments are more than welcome as it's nice to know that you read and care.<p>

Thank you!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:** hey everyone… I'm alive :) Sort of.

I am really, really sorry for not updating for so long and for making you hang and probably imagine the worst. Well, there is no excuse to it. The truth is, I moved across half of the world and started school. Which is amazing and I loved it a lot. But it also takes all of my time and I barely can write at all. Which doesn't mean I am going to quit but the updates will be as irregular as ever.

Second, I don't watch TVD anymore because they killed all of my fave characters and I gave it a try in the beginning of the season, but truth be told, I am not sure I like where the show is going, so – all things considered – I chose not to waste my time. Keeping an eye on spoilers though, so – who knows? That said, I apologize for future inconsistencies.

Dig in!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

_ As strong as you were, tender you go._

_I'm watching you breathing for the last time._

_A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,_

_I know what it means and I'll carry you home._

"_Carry You Home" by James Blunt~_

There were at least a thousand things that Alaric considered generally torturous, with parent-teacher conferences, anchovy pizza and watching Damon watch Oprah being somewhere at the top of the list. But spending the night in the chair that in his honest opinion wasn't comfortable even for sitting, leave alone sleeping, was nearing Top Five of them. What was it with making furniture so horrible all these years ago? And why couldn't Damon replace all this antique stuff with something… normal?

He squinted and rubbed his eyes. Behind the half drawn curtain, the sky was getting pale at the horizon as the first rays of sun struggled through the early morning mist, chasing away the dark. The clock on the mantel above the cold fireplace said that it was a little past six.

Across the room from him, Jenna was still fast asleep, her breath deep and even despite the fact that her fingers were closed tightly around the afghan she was covered with, clenching it tight. It was a relief though in any case – to see that she was having a much needed rest. And that the color of her face was not as freakishly grey as a few hours ago when she looked surreally translucent. Like a ghost.

Alaric uncurled himself from the chair on a mental note to burn it in the fireplace one of these days, and then stretched, wincing at the protest of his sore muscles. No, his neck was not going to be straight ever again, that much he was sure of. He grimaced tilting his head to one shoulder and then to another, and not quite bothering to even acknowledge his back that felt stiff as a board.

Everything that had happened a few short hours ago still seemed to be nothing but some cruel nightmare, and he was willing, oh so willing, to believe it. God knew, it would be for the best, for all of them. An illusion to cling to. If only it wasn't for the blood stains on his own clothes he hadn't had time – or energy, come to think of it – to change. Jenna's blood. The thought made him nauseous.

Scrubbing his hands down his face – god, he needed to shave, too – Alaric walked up to the couch, hovering above her for a few seconds. His hand reached out to brush away the strand of hair that fell to her forehead of the will of its own but he withdrew it back instantly, not daring to disturb her sleep and then shook his head before heading towards the kitchen following the scent of freshly brewed coffee that pulled him like a lifeline, really. There was actually a tiny piece of hope that it'd revive him somehow and maybe make him stop feeling like he'd been run over by the tuck, five times, back and forth.

Boy, up until now he didn't even know it was possible to feel so dead without being… well, dead.

In the kitchen, Damon was tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter as he waited for the coffee pot to fill. He turned to the sound of Alaric's footsteps and gave him a speculative once-over. Still dressed in his black shirt – now wrinkled as if someone chewed it and then spat out – he didn't look much better than Alaric felt.

"And look who crawled from under the rock," the vampire hemmed as a matter of greeting.

"Good morning to you, too," Alaric called back flatly.

Damon grabbed two mugs, filled them and pushed one towards Alaric along the counter. "You look like shit," he observed.

Ric glanced down at his crumpled and stained clothes, and then up again. "Right back at ya."

The coffee burned his mouth, not to mention that it was Damon-style strong and thus more than capable of dissolving his insides. Yet, it felt rather reviving at the same time, much to his surprise. To hell with discomfort, all he truly needed was for his brain to become more of a brain and less of a mashed potato.

"You okay, Ric?"

"Yeah," Alaric breathed out and pinched the bridge of his nose rubbing the corners of his eyes as though physically pushing sleepiness out of his system.

Damon nodded. "How's Jenna?" His gaze flickered towards the study.

Alaric threw a look over his shoulder. "Sleeping." He paused, then added more to himself than to Damon, "She'll be fine. She better be."

Damon pondered his answer for a few moments as he sipped his coffee. "Now is probably not the best time of the day for it—" another flicker of his eyes. "But what the hell was it all about this time? Aside from Klaus being his charming psychotic self. Which isn't news."

Alaric's jaw clenched and he exhaled slowly through his nose. If only he had it in him, he'd explode with rage at the mere mention of what had happened last night. But, for better or for worse, he was so tired that it flared up like a match for a few moments before turning into low simmering, just under the surface, the way it had been ever since… since Isobel, probably. It'd come back later, powerless agony of not being able to turn back the time and fix it all, to stop Klaus from doing what he did to her. Not now. Now it was… it was too much.

He noticed that he was gripping his mug with enough force to creak it, his knuckles and tips of his fingers white with strain, and put it down… before he smashed it against the wall or something. Damon's question was logical, and not uncalled for, but he had to fight down the frustration. As if he could shield Jenna from all of this but keeping it in the far corner of his mind, away from curious and inquisitive eyes.

"He used her," Alaric said flatly as though he was suddenly stripped of all emotions and feelings and whatever drove him up until now. "For some freaky experiments. Like some lab rat. God." It wasn't even a joke anymore. He seriously needed to hit something right now. Hard. A wall would suffice… That son of a bitch—He looked up to find endless puzzlement written all over Damon's face.

"Wanna elaborate? Not the best time for charades."

Alaric let out another long, measured breath. "He tried to find out if she—if she was any different."

"Different how—Oh." Damon's brows drew together. "And?"

"And what?"

"Did he find out anything?"

Alaric stared at him, disbelieving. "Are you for real?"

Damon ignored the glare. "Would you please stop overreacting and think, Ric? I don't like the situation anymore than you do. That crazy son of bitch is running around with scissors and we can't do anything about it. But it would actually help if we knew what we're dealing with here, no?"

Okay, this was solid, and for the most part – rational part – Alaric knew it was making sense. So far, they were like a bunch of blind people trying to put together Eiffel Tower, not knowing where the odds and ends were, which pretty much equaled to simply banging their heads against the walls with no avail. It would, in fact, be nice to know something, to have some advantage. But not for that price. Not when Jenna's life was at stake. _That_ he couldn't agree with. Not now. Not ever.

Still, he simply nodded, too tired to go on with the argument when his brain wasn't even working properly, not soaked enough in caffeine yet.

"No. Not that she could tell." Another gulp of coffee settled comfortably in his stomach.

Damon puckered his lips, all thoughts and concentration.

"What?" Alaric inquired, not sure he trusted the vampire when too much thinking was involved.

Damon looked up. "We need something. Some sort of leverage," he responded absently.

"Yeah, we got that, sort of." Ric snickered. "Klaus tells us _Jump or I'll kill you all_, and we ask – _how high?_ Not enough leverage for you?"

"You're narrow-minded and grumpy."

"Party all night, and that's what you get," Alaric muttered under his breath.

"What I mean is that we need something to be a step ahead of Klaus." He started to pace – from table to stove to kitchen island. "And right now any information is useful."

"Well, if he did figure something out, he kept it to himself."

"Uh-huh." More pacing. Alaric could practically feel the wheels in Damon's head turn as he tried to… come up with something, or whatever. "You know, I've been thinking—"

"I was afraid of it. Never a good sign."

Damon moved on without so much as a blink of an eye. "There has to be something that we're missing."

"Obviously."

"Now, aren't you a ball of sunshine today? So, I was thinking," the vampire pressed on giving Alaric a pointed look. "Who knows more about the vampire than someone who's into the lore?"

Alaric waited. And then waited a little more. But, unsurprisingly, no revelation downed on him, no epiphany flared in his mind. Nothing happened but a staring contest he hadn't signed up to.

"Can you please be a little more specific, Damon? My brain is… uh, hibernating."

"And didn't we know that already?" Damon grumbled under his breath.

"You're so not helping!"

"Whatever. Remember that exciting trip to Duke a few months ago?"

"That time when you got a stake in your back? Yeah, sure."

Damon grimaced at the memory. "That's not the point." He waved his hand, dismissing the subject. "Anyway, that hottie, Isobel's assistant or whatever—"

"The one that shot you," Alaric prompted helpfully.

"Yeah, that one." Damon regarded him darkly. "You're enjoying it, aren't you?"

"Can't help it," Ric all but grinned at him. "It's not every day someone tried to kill you… oh, wait."

"I'm sorry, do you, like, have a solid plan how to save us all?"

Alaric rose his hands up. "Go on. I'm all ears."

"Now, wouldn't that be awesome." Damon huffed. "Do you think she can help us?"

"Who?"

"Hot grad student!"

"I think it's Vanessa."

"I think it's not important."

Alaric's forehead creased. "But she's already sent us everything Isobel had on the vampires and werewolves." He raked his brain, trying to recall the documents he went through a few weeks ago before stashing them away in the far corner of his closet rendering the whole box more or less useless as there was nothing in it they didn't already know. "There wasn't anything on Originals."

"And how about something she didn't send? I doubt that the knowledge on this subject is limited to your wife's research." And then he stared at Ric expectedly. "They probably have an extensive library, don't you think?"

Alaric considered his words.

It was true that the papers they got from Duke mostly contained the information on vampires and werewolves and heir origins as species, mostly in terms of folklore and legends. There was nothing in there about the hybrids or even their existence, and he wondered once again if Isobel even knew about the true nature of Klaus. Would she miss something like that? Would she disregard that sort of information? He didn't know what to think.

Then again, maybe she wasn't interested in that line of the story, which was quite possible as well. Or – she didn't have enough time to get there yet. In any case, Damon was right. Technically, just because his ex wife didn't dig deeper didn't mean there wasn't more to the story. And they needed it. They needed it more than anything now.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Alaric ran a hand down his face. "It's worth a shot."

"And!" The vampire made a dramatic pause. "We're also running out of resources anyway. Besides, who knows more about the vampires than a folklore… um, expert?"

"Um… witches?"

Damon regarded him skeptically. "Right, like those proved being of any use. Please."

Okay, that Alaric had nothing to say to. "I still think it's pointless," he noted nonetheless.

"Do you always have to ruin a good party?"

"Just saying that if there was anything in the school books on how to kill Klaus, he'd probably burn down the entire library, and the whole town for good measure."

"And I still think that if you want to hide something real good, hide it in plain sight."

"It's like the moonstone didn't teach you anything," Alaric snorted.

Damon winced. "Can't you forget about this unfortunate event?"

"Not in this lifetime, I can't." He gulped the rest of his coffee relieved to notice that his mind was almost working properly again, capable of processing simple thoughts.

* * *

><p>Jenna awoke to the sun sneaking between the heavy folds of the curtains and falling right on her face. She groaned sleepily and rolled over to bury her face in a scratchy pillowcase in a vain attempt to avoid the merciless glare while two things occurred to her at once. First – she definitely didn't own anything of scratchy kind. The pillow smelled funny and vaguely familiar although she failed to place it at right away which…. Which obviously meant she wasn't at home. Which, all things and past experience considered, was a bad sign per se.<p>

And second, her head felt heavy and big and kind of stuffed with cotton. All in all, the hangover-ish feeling like of implied that she had had a hell of time the previous night. Which was odd because she had no recollection of any such thing, and combined with the first realization, it made wish she stayed asleep, preferably forever, seeing as how – college life assumed – she was sure she did not want to face whatever lay ahead of her. Not now, not in the nearest future. Period.

Jenna squeezed her eyes tight and pushed her face deeper into what wasn't pillowy soft at all and what smelled strongly of dust and something—something… kind of like something from the antique shop.

It wasn't bad, however, and the room was warm, and after a while the comfort almost lulled her back to a pleasant slumber which almost made her believe for a moment or two that the rest of the world ceased to exist. Which seemed to be an awfully good plan, and so Jenna chose to lie still, listening half-heartedly to what was going on inside and outside of her.

Inside, her heart was thudding steadily, and her stomach felt queasy and unsettled and maybe a little sick. Inhale – three counts in her head, exhale – four. Steady, soothing… She kept going on with it until everything else evened out.

Outside, Jenna could hear the sighs and grumbles of an old house, the squeal of the floorboards and roof beams or whatever. The wind was whistling softly in the chimney, weaving into the gentle monotonous pattern of sounds one normally grew to take for granted and stop noticing altogether with time.

Jenna's fingers closed tighter around the afghan she'd been covered with and her mind struggled hard to get hold of the dream she'd been having before the sun ruined it all. It was something bright, something about—

And then it came back to her, all of it. All of the events of the previous night, the blood. Alaric…

Jenna bolted upright at lightning speed, gasping for air as if she had resurfaced after spending too much time underwater. The room around her swayed and she reached out to hold onto the armrest of the couch before she actually toppled to the floor, which wasn't entirely impossible, however ridiculous it sounded, although otherwise she ignored the nausea and dizziness that overtook her instantly.

Numbly, she stared at her bandaged wrists that made her look like a depressed emo teenager in the darkest of times. It would have been cringe-worthy in any other situation, perhaps. Like in the one where she wouldn't be questioning the parts of her memories that were too surreal to be true. And she prayed with all her might for half of them to disappear.

It wasn't much of a surprise when it turned out that she was blissfully dozed off in the Salvatore study occupying one of the couches. And a very uncomfortable one, too, what with the leather cushions constantly slipping away somewhere.

Jenna looked around somewhat warily but the room was… well, not covered in blood as she half expected. It remained empty as well, save for a familiar jacket draped casually over the back of one of the arm chairs by the cold fireplace. She glanced down at her bandages again, and it was only then that she noticed that her shirt was missing which left her wearing only a bra and a white undershirt tank top smeared with something that looked pretty much like blood although the question of whose it was remained unanswered.

The sight made her stomach churn, and Jenna scrambled up to her feet hastily and pulled the afghan around her shoulders before following the quiet sound of hushed voices purposely ignoring the fact that the floor wasn't entirely stable underneath her feet.

The morning sunlight was streaming through the tall windows and skylights coloring the whole pace in warm gold and making it look peaceful and homey, the way she'd never seen it before, perhaps. Come to think of it, she probably never _looked_ at it this way. It was, apparently, a little past seven, which meant she couldn't have slept for more than a few hours. Yet, it somehow seemed like it'd been forever since she'd last seen the light of day, an abyss between now and then.

"…_that hottie, Isobel's assistant…"_ Damon's enthusiastic voice made her ears perk.

"…_I think it's Vanessa…"_ Alaric offered helpfully.

Jenna paused outside the kitchen door catching the end of the conversation, her fingers burying deeper into the soft folds holding her cover even tighter around her shoulders.

The road tip. To Duke. To talk to someone who might know something. Yeah, she couldn't see how anything could go wrong here.

She swallowed hard.

Alaric. But—

She shook her head as if struggling to shake off the whole dream-not-dream that was haunting her mind. It felt so bright, so real… But it couldn't have been.

Her fingers curled into fists against her will, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms. She felt like she was losing her mind. Like it was somewhere between here and there, and it kept slipping away making the world look misshapen and twisted. The way things look through a magnifying glass.

She shifter her weight, and the floorboard creaked underneath her feet.

"Jenna," Alaric breathed out with relief. He straightened up and cleared his throat, his eyes searching her face tentatively.

"Oh, finally." Damon chipped in, completely disregarding the elephant in the room. "You've missed all the fun." Which earned him the heaviest of glares from Ric. "What?! She has!"

And he downed his coffee in one gulp, which made Jenna even more nauseous. She looked away.

"Jenna, look—"

"I'm going with you.

Alaric put away his own cup. "Can you give us a minute?" He asked Damon without actually looking at him.

The vampire looked at him, then at her, then rolled his eyes. Well, almost. There was just something about Ric that made him reconsider the last moment, and in the end he simply shook his head instead.

"Like I even want to deal with any of this," he grunted under his breath.

None of them spoke until Damon's footsteps faded away as he stomped upstairs.

"So, are you—" Alaric began. "How are you?"

Which was just _the_ thing to ask, right? He flinched inwardly, hating himself for being so much of a cliché.

"I'm—good. Yes, good." Jenna sucked in a sharp breath. "As much as…" She trailed off looking down herself.

The floor was cold beneath her feet but she couldn't feel it. And once again, it scared her. It scared her like nothing else in the world. What if at some point she would stop feeling anything at all? What if she herself would become nothing?

She was already halfway there anyway, right? Lost. Unwanted. She didn't belong. Not anymore. And it made her feel so tiny, so completely … non-existent.

"Look, about Duke, you don't have to—" Alaric cleared his throat trying not to stare too bluntly, having to keep his fists clenched so as not to reach out for her. "Damon and I… we can handle it."

"No," Jenna snapped her head up. "I want to go. After all, it is my life we are talking about."

Which probably came out sharper than she had intended and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from going on about all the times she was so disrespectfully excluded from being a part of the decision, about all the times her life was turned upside down without her knowing anything about it. There was no point in doing it all over again, no point in going over all of this once more.

She knew it wasn't her speaking, not entirely. She knew that everything about her was magnified. Her frustration included, and it simply wasn't fair. They were all trying to some degree, Alaric more than anyone perhaps. She wasn't blind, she could see it, feel it even. Besides, what was done was done and she could change nothing about Klaus and everything around them. But knowing it was one thing. Accepting it, however, was a long and painful process, by the looks of it. Longer and more painful than could have imagined.

After a moment, Alaric nodded slowly. She had a point after all. "Sure." He mustered a small tentative smile which came out more forced than he'd intended. "Coffee?"

Jenna's stomach churned.

"I… I think I'll hit the shower first. Hope Damon won't mind."

"I'm sure it's not an issue."

Jenna nodded mimicking him – what the hell it was with all this nodding, again? – and turned away to leave. Then stopped and turned. "Ric?"

Alaric looked up, their eyes locked. "Mm?"

He looked… relieved. Almost hopeful. And something died inside of her at the sight.

Her fingers flexed around the afghan as tight as if it was something to hold on to and draw her strength from. Like it was the only thing that, wrapped around her, was holding her together.

"Thank you. For—for coming to get me and… Thank you."

The corners of Alaric's lips tugged up into a faint half smile. "Just another night in Mystic Falls."

Jenna shook her head, nearly smiling back. Except it was too an much effort, tired as she was. "Yeah, bowling is so mainstream these days." And after a moment. "Listen, had I—" Her eyes flickered to his neck that looked – well, as fine as necks went, perhaps. Which made her feel rather ridiculous.

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

When she was gone, Alaric leaned heavily against the counter, closed his eyes and let out a long breath as a throbbing pain began to pool in his skull. A million tiny hammers intending to drive him crazy. He felt sick all of sudden. Sick and fed up and so drained that the desire to scream almost overpowered him. Even for him, it was too much. Their situation felt like running through the labyrinth that had no exit. Trapped. He had no idea how Jenna was coping with all the mess without losing her mind. A part of him didn't want to know it. Didn't want to think of it at all.

"It's like you never learn."

Alaric snapped his head up to the sound of a grim voice.

He spotted Damon standing in the doorway, his face grim and lips twisted into a sour line of disgust. He took a swig of whatever from his glass probably bourbon – which at this time of the day was pretty badass even for him.

"What was I supposed to do, Damon?" Alaric asked in a dull, hollow voice, not interested in the answer. "Tell her the truth? Tell her that she decided to go all fangs on me because she was too weak to control herself? How would _that_ make things better?"

They glared at each other for a few moments before Damon finally looked away. He brought the glass up to his lips again as he stared sightlessly at the wall.

"Whatever," he muttered.

"It was nothing," Alaric breathed out.

"Because I was there to save your sorry ass."

"Which earned you some extra points and a cookie. Happy?"

Alaric scrubbed his hands down his face. He dropped his gaze to the cup of his cold coffee on the counter and felt his stomach twist at the memory of the metal aftertaste of Damon's blood in his mouth. The only reason he was still breathing, perhaps. The only reason the bite marks Jenna had left had healed completely. It hadn't escaped him that she searched for them. It hadn't escaped him that she was relieved not to find them either. How was he supposed to tell her the truth? How was he supposed to make her live with it?

It wasn't black and white, this whole damn situation was a lot more complicated than that! Not just good or bad, kind or evil. Each of them was fighting their own war inside them, and he didn't want to bring even more demons to her already deadly battle.

What happened a few hours ago wasn't Jenna's fault. Just as it wasn't hi. Klaus's maybe. But it was a dangerous road to follow and he refused to do it for the time being. It freaked him out, though. Horrified him. He had never felt so helpless, so completely out of control before. So utterly scared, if only because he knew that the only way to stop Jenna would have been to hurt her, to make something bad enough to _make_ her stop, and he couldn't do it for the life of him. If hurting her was the only choice, he knew he would rather let her kill him instead.

Alaric closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could still feel with easiness with which his skin tore underneath Jenna's fangs, her lips grazed against his neck, soft as silk. It didn't even hurt, not much at least. Truth be told, it took him a while to grasp what was going on. Too long, as Damon told him later.

The memory made him sick.

"It wasn't her."

Damon gave him a measured look, and the gravity of it made Alaric's blood run cold.

"That is exactly what she is, Ric." He downed the rest of his drink. "That's what she is."

* * *

><p>In the guest bathroom upstairs, Jenna stared at herself in the mirror, looking past the "nest" of tangled hair and right into something deep and dark and scary. A coil of unknown at the bottom of her soul. Her skin bore an unnaturally grayish pallor, which was unsettling even for a vampire, and her eyes were hiding in hollow sockets rimmed by dark circles.<p>

She desperately searched for the person she had been, the person she'd wanted to be. But there was nothing left, not a trace. Nothing but emptiness that filled her with cold and fear, a stranger looking back at her from behind the glass. Someone she didn't know what to do with. It felt like she had been stripped off her very being and stuffed into some other shell and then tossed away like a rag doll to manage on her own.

Cautiously, Jenna reached out until her fingers brushed against the cool glass, half expecting the reflection not to reach back to meet her touch. For a moment, she thought it would simmer and ripple like a disturbed surface of the water. For one thing, it sure wasn't possible that that stranger staring back at her was Jenna Sommers. It just—

Her fingers let go of the afghan and it fell down to pool around her feet without her even noticing.

The skin of her arms and shoulder was perfectly smooth and if a little luminous under the soft light of the lamps framing the mirror on both sides. There wasn't a trace of the marks Klaus had left mere hours ago. Not a scar. Not even a single scratch. It was like nothing happened. Nothing at all.

In her mind, however, all Jenna could see was blood and cuts and bruises all over her shoulders and face where his fingers dug dip enough to tear through her flesh if only he wanted to do so. She could taste metallic bitterness in her mouth and feel the touch of his cold hands to her skin. So bright, so clear… Like it was still happening.

She blinked and all but jerked away from the mirror breathing hard and swallowing past the burning lump in her throat. All these memories seemed to be crawling all over her making her want to scrub and scratch at her skin until it peeled off completely, to claw the images out of her mind for good. If only she could. God, if only she could get rid of this nightmare this easily.

Jenna turned on the water in the shower cubicle, so hot that it filled generously spacious bathroom with thick steam within seconds. Then, hoping she wouldn't pass out from weakness and dizziness and shed off her ruined clothes and stepped inside, almost crying out when the water touched her skin. She didn't though. Instead, she bit her lip and let the water wash over her, let it burn away each and every trace of Klaus's touch. How was it even possible that it was a reality of her life now?

She found the shower gel and the sponge and rubbed and scrubbed at her arms and shoulders and wherever she could reach until her skin was red and hot and covered with a new layer of blotches.

Eventually, the tears came, as hot at the water streaming down her body, and Jenna leaned against the cool tile wall, gasping for breath and sucking in one shaky inhale after another. She slid down to the floor hugging her knees tight to her chest. Never had she wanted to curl into a ball of nothingness and cease to exist like this before. Never did her very soul hurt so much with invisible scars and the memories that cut her to pieces.

It was like every time she thought that this was the bottom, nowhere else to go, nowhere else to fall, someone would show up and make everything even worse. Someone, something…

Klaus—

He was making her do things, _feel_ things. He was making her something she wasn't, something she never wanted to be. Wherever she went, whatever she did, he was constantly in her head, a reminder of what she'd become. And she wanted him out – out of her head and out of her life. She just wanted it all to end.

Jenna squinted her eyes tight, completely oblivious to the burning hot water by this moment, and bit her lip so hard she felt the taste of blood in her mouth. All the steam around her was making his hard to breathe. Or maybe it was unshed tears that chocked her. Her body hurt from memories she knew she would have to carry on forever, from lack of oxygen and shallow intakes of air, and emptiness inside of her that nothing would ever fill.

She wanted this all to end. All of it. So, so bad.

**To be continued…**

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><p><strong>AN:** I know it wasn't the best of me perhaps, so… thoughts? Opinions?

Next chapter – road trip! Stay tuned! Sometime in this millennium, it will be finished :)


	14. Chapter 14

Hey everyone, thought I'd make it official.

For different reasons, the main of them being that I stopped watching The Vampire Diaries 3 years ago, I will no longer continue working on this story. It doesn't seem fair to have you hanging like that, so… I'm sorry, and thanks for sticking with me for so long.

Nadin


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